Page 145 of Pack Frenzy
But this isn’t something duct tape and Gatorade can fix.
She chose me once.
I just hope, when the next wave comes, she still will.
Seconds later, I feel the first ripple through Jess’s body like a misfire in an engine—jerky, wild, then suddenly all in sync.
She’s not talking anymore. Just little animal sounds, tiny gasps, a whimper every time I trace the line of her jaw with mythumb, then follow the curve down her throat to her collarbone. She shudders at the touch, eyes rolling up for a second before she comes back to me.
“Need more?” I ask, soft as I can.
She laughs, except it’s not really a laugh, more a desperate snort. “I need you,” she says, and there’s nothing funny about it.
So I give her all of me. Hands first—I start at her shoulder, knead the knot that’s formed there, then drift down, cupping her breast, letting my palm warm the soft skin before brushing my thumb over her nipple. It’s taut, and when I twist it, she arches into my hand, head thrown back.
I keep my eyes on her face, watching for that flicker of pain, but all I see is hunger. She wants me, maybe more than she ever has, and I feel something twist in my gut.
I shift, slide down the bed so I can press my mouth against her chest. The taste is salt and heat, familiar but new in the way it makes my lips go numb. She pushes my head lower, fingers tangled in my hair, and I take her nipple between my teeth, gentle at first, then harder as she moans.
“More,” she says, and I obey, rolling her onto her back. My hands are everywhere—thighs, hips, the soft skin just under her belly button. She’s trembling, but not from fever this time.
She opens her legs without hesitation, and I kneel between them, staring before reaching out. Her skin is flushed, hair slicked down, and when I run my fingers along her inner thigh, she flinches, then presses closer. I stroke up, slow at first, until I reach the place where she’s slick and desperate for touch.
I slide a finger in, careful, then a second, and she cries out, head slamming back against the pillow. I curl them, feeling for the spot that makes her lose it, and when I find it, she bites her own arm to keep from screaming.
I keep working her, slow and steady, letting her ride the edge but never letting go. Her breaths go sharp, then shallow, and I know she’s close.
I kiss up her body, following the path of my own hand, until our mouths meet again. This time, she’s the one biting, hard enough to draw blood. I don’t mind. I like the way it makes her eyes go wild, like she’s the only person left in the world and she wants to devour it.
She breaks away, gasping. “Don’t stop. Eli, please, don’t?—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, and I mean it.
“Please, I-I need you inside me.”
My cock agrees, and I slide into her slick pussy and shudder. Everything in me wants to take my time, enjoy her, but she’s so fucking tight that I can’t stop thrusting in and out of her.
She’s close—her whole body tenses, and I worry she’s going to pass out. But then she snaps, back arching so high I think she’ll break in half, and she screams, raw and real, nothing held back.
I hold her through her orgasm, stroking her hair, kissing her shoulder, until she collapses against me, spent and shaking.
By some miracle, all her heat and tightness haven’t squeezed an orgasm out of me, but fuck, I’m close. One more minute and I’d be gone over the edge with her.
Cassian surfaces with a groan, wild hair in his eyes, and blinks at us like he’s surprised to find himself anywhere but the bottom of a dogpile. Then he clocks Jess, crumpled and exhausted against my chest, and something sharp and predatory clicks behind his smile.
“Couldn’t wait for me?” he rasps, voice shredded but cocky as always.
Jess tries to flip him off, but she’s too tired, so she just flaps her hand weakly in his direction. Cassian grins like she’s just confessed her undying love.
“Move over, Beta Boy,” he says, shoving my thigh with his foot, but it’s more playful than anything.
Normally, I’d flip him off right back. But Jess needs this. I ease back and let Cassian slide into the space, his arms scooping her up.
He buries his face in her hair, inhales deep, then trails his mouth down to her neck, licking the sweat off her skin. Jess shudders, her hands curling into his biceps.
“You smell like a five-alarm fire,” he murmurs, teeth grazing her earlobe.
“Maybe you should stop lighting matches, then,” she snaps, but her words melt as he starts working her jawline, sharp teeth nipping down to her collar.
