The Fall (The Lycans 7)

I wasn’t going to survive the situation with how things were progressing. Because I felt like with each passing hour my composure and need to keep distance from Sebastian were slowly being whittled away until it would soon be nothing but a stump.

“You’re not playing fair.” The words were a whispered breath pulled from my mouth before I could stop them.

His chuckle was low and deep, and the sound was very much that of a satisfied male. He kept running his nose up and down the side of my throat, inhaling deeply. Sebastian moved his hand off my forearm and spread his palm wide over my lower belly.

“When it comes to you, I’ll break all the rules to win.”

The husky tenor of his voice shouldn’t have affected me the way it did. It was a physical, visceral sensation inside of me.

But here I was, silently demanding he never stop, and even arching my back and popping my ass toward him more.

A soft gasp left me as I felt the very hard, very big outline of his erection digging into the crease of my bottom.

“You feel that,” he whispered, his warm breath brushing against the shell of my ear. “You feel how hard I am?” He thrust his hips forward, and a seamless moan was pulled from me. “I’ve been rock-hard since I woke up and you were beneath me, your sweet blood filling my mouth and sliding down my throat.”

I made a needy sound and he groaned.

“I can’t help myself where you’re concerned.” He was steadily pumping against me, grinding his cock into my ass at the same time he added pressure to my belly, keeping me rested tightly to him.

“M-Maybe we should focus on ensuring whatever’s out there doesn’t come in here.” My words sounded garbled, broken up. I was pushing them through even though they were the last thing I wanted to talk about.

“Mmm,” he hummed and kept dry fucking me slowly, steadily, as if he had all the time in the world.

It was like I’d swallowed sand. Even forming the simplest word was taking all my energy.

He didn’t stop, and when I felt his fingers brush the hem of my shirt, pushing the material up, I should’ve told him to stop.

I didn’t.

Of course I wouldn’t.

“I can multitask, my sweet girl,” he whispered, but it sounded more like a promise of intent.

He pushed my shirt up to my navel, the pads of his big fingers warm and slightly calloused as he skated them along the exposed flesh.

Goose bumps immediately formed, and I parted my lips, letting out a sound that pleased him, because he started sucking at my neck and making the most primal noises I’d ever heard.

“Let me finish what I started.”

Oh gods. I knew what he meant.

“Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to—”

“Keep going.” I breathed those two words out. No shame. None at all. Because here I was, pressing my ass back and forth against his hard cock and feeling so much wetness settle between my legs, my inner thighs were slick.

“Mmm, my sweet female. You don’t have to do anything but exist and you please me so much.” The warm wetness of his tongue pulled another moan from me. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you? You want to pleasure me and let me keep going, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I begged.

“You’re doing so good, Ada. So good that I’m harder than fucking steel. So fucking stiff my cock hurts.” He hummed. “I’m seeping pre-cum like a motherfucker because all I can think about is burying my face between your pale, freckled thighs and feasting on all that nectar that’s spilling for me until you get off and soak my face.”

Holy shit. His dirty talk was going to make me go over the edge.

“I can smell all that honey spilling from that tight fucking pussy.” He bit the side of my throat, his fangs so sharp that a sting settled where he nibbled on me. “I bet you taste even sweeter.”

I tugged on my lip to stifle the wounded-animal-like sounds that were surely going to be pulled from me.

“You want that, Ada? You want to please me and let me do all the filthy fucking things I’ve envisioned doing to my mate?” More biting, more thrusting… just more. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good. So fucking good you’ll never want me to stop.”

I tipped my head back and found myself turning it in his direction.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

I forced my eyes open and stared into his glowing red ones. He moved his other hand around my body and moved that big palm around my throat, adding slight pressure so the threat of my oxygen getting cut off was very real.

And it made me wetter.

Sebastian was panting, huffing and puffing like he’d run a marathon, like he couldn’t catch his breath, and it was all because he was touching me.