When He's Dark (The Olympus Pride 1)

He pumped his hips faster, satisfied when she didn’t flinch. “Told you I’d claim your ass one day, didn’t I?” He rode it harder, possessing it. Owning it. Reminding her who she belonged to. She groaned, arched, and tried pushing her hips back. He kept her still as he fucked into her body, taking what he wanted, giving her what she needed.

Bree jolted as his palm came down hard on her ass. The fuck? “Hey, what was that for? I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t slap your ass because I’m pissed at you. I slapped it because I wanted to.”

And then he did it again. And again. And again, layering sensation upon sensation, winding her tighter and tighter.

He kept on changing it up. One minute he’d spank her with an open palm, the next he’d do it with a cupped hand. Sometimes it would be a quick series of short, sharp slaps. Other times it would be a harsh whack … leaving her skin feeling tingly and highly charged.

“So pretty.” He lightly scratched his blunt nails over the red flesh on her ass.

She hissed out a breath even as she tried arching into his touch.

“I’m gonna want this ass often.” Still tunneling in and out of her, Alex fisted her hair and snatched her head to the side, exposing her throat to him; giving him a perfect view of the claiming brand he’d left there.

Feeling his orgasm barreling toward him, Alex eased his body over hers and scraped his teeth over the back of her shoulder. “Make me come in your ass, Bree.” He sank his teeth into her flesh, branding her yet again. She came apart with a choked cry, and the tight muscles of her ass squeezed his cock.

Growling deep in his throat, he pounded harder, slamming deep. He felt an echo of her pleasure wash through their bond, and it acted like a trigger. Flames of pure pleasure whipped through him. He exploded, filling her ass with his come, claiming it as his own.

Contentment flooded him and his beast just as Alex collapsed on top of her, his chest burning with each ragged breath. When he could finally move, he withdrew his softening cock and lifted her. “Shower.” He carried through the apartment and into the bathroom.

Under the hot spray, they soaped each other down. “You sore?” he asked.

“Only a little.” She grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the shelf. “Told you that you wouldn’t make it through the entire movie before fucking me.”

“No,” he began, nabbing the bottle from her and squirting shampoo onto his hand, “you said I wouldn’t make it through the entire movie before dragging you to bed.” He massaged shampoo into her hair. “We never went to bed.”

“Whatever, dude, the point is you didn’t make it.”

“You knew what you were doing when you started talking about piercings,” he said as she rinsed her hair. “And it was a downright lie—there’s no way you’d let a needle anywhere near your clit, I know that. But the visual was enough to make my cock, which was already hard as steel, ache like a damn bitch.”

“You enjoyed yourself, from what I could tell, so stop whining.”

He just snorted.

“So, it’s my day off tomorrow. Anything you want to do?”

He shrugged. “I’m easy.”

“How about we have a binge-watch-TV-in-bed day?”

“Works for me.”

Satisfied that he’d be indoors for the day, Bree smiled. “Good,” she said, smoothing on her hair conditioner. She always felt all warm and languid after a bout of hot sex, but this was different. She felt … settled. Felt calmer deep inside. So did her cat.

Bree suspected that having him solidify his claim had soothed something in both her and her feline; that it had vanquished a worry that he wasn’t fully invested in the imprinting. It was a worry that Bree hadn’t even acknowledged until then. Bree didn’t doubt him, she just sometimes found it hard to truly believe that she finally had what she’d wanted for so long.

“We need to include takeout in this plan,” she said. Having takeout on a Saturday night was the law in her world.

“We’ll get Thai food for dinner.”

“And, of course, by Thai food, you mean pizza, right?”

His mouth twitched. “Of course.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’ve never known anyone to eat pizza as much as you do.”

She frowned. “What? It’s an essential food group.” She rinsed off her conditioner. “The only way I could adore you more is if you were made of pizza.”

“But then you’d eat me.”

“It’d only be fair—you eat me almost every morning.”

Hunger flared in his eyes. “Hmm, I do, don’t I? I’m thinking of doing it again now.”

“Like I’d object.”

He made her come with his mouth right there before ordering her to her knees so she could return the favor, which wash fine with her. They then both dried off, pulled on some clothes, and ordered both pizza and Thai food.