Crushed by the Cruiser by V.T. Bonds

Author:V.T. Bonds [Bonds, V.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: V.T. Bonds
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Masst

The delicate column of her throat moves as she swallows. My cock hardens and pulses, testing the seam of my pants. I lift the glass to her lips, ending our stare down, and cup the back of her head in my hand. She drinks the rest of the water before meeting my eyes again.

“Why?” she asks.

I quirk a brow and respond, “Why what?”

“Why is this so important to you?”

I rumble in delight. She’s shown resilience and a firecracker spirit, but I fall deeper into her spell as she reveals her intuition and wisdom.

The sheet slips off her shoulder, but she catches it before it exposes her breast. Her quick movement snaps my control and I react on instinct, dropping the glass and wrapping one hand around her throat while weaving the other into her filthy hair.

“There are very few certainties in this life. You want to know why it’s important to me you know my name? Because what I’m going to do to you won’t be easy. It’ll be intense, rough, and raw. I’ll be merciless and controlling, and in the end, I’ll take everything from you. Everything.”

I flex my fingers around her throat.

“But I’ll make it worth it.”

Fear and lust shine from her eyes, but she studies my expression and pulls her courage tight around her.

“How? How could you possibly make losing everything worth it?” she asks.

“The way any alpha should. I’ll give you everything in return,” I say before lowering my lips to hers. Her gasp parts her teeth, so I deepen the kiss, but she destroys my control as she willingly opens for me. I explore the recesses of her mouth, pouring the ferocity of my need into the action until she whimpers. Her nails dig into my forearm, reminding me of my grip on her throat. I relax my fingers and pull back.

We both pant and stare at one another as though truly seeing each other for the first time. When her swollen bottom lip trembles, I groan and dive into her mouth again, needing her more with every breath.

Through my growing mania, I register the fuller notes of her pheromones, but force myself to focus on the hints of incompleteness.

I will not mar my omega by knotting her before she’s ready.

With a growl, I pull away and push her backward until she’s prone on the wrecked nest. I yank the last of the sheets off her, toss them aside, and feast my eyes on her perfection. High, pert breasts with flushed nipples, a trim waist, and wide hips create an hourglass figure, but she needs more pampering. More food. More water.

I’ll give them to her. Soon.

First, I need more of her, and she needs more of me. I wedge my shoulders between her thighs and bury my face in her pussy, too far gone for finesse and too hungry to hold back.

She bucks and squeals, but I wrap her legs over my shoulders, curl my hands around her hips, and feast on her slick like a starving man.

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