The Wolf (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #2)(100)

Rio arched her spine again and reached her arms out. Linking her hands around the backs of his thighs, she put a little pressure into the hard cords of his hamstrings. If he didn’t come forward, she would let it be. She wasn’t going to beg for sex from anybody, not even him. But if he did— Luke closed the distance so that the crown of her head rested on the front of his legs. As he stared down at her, his jaw started to grind.

Opening her mouth, she ran her tongue over her lips. Then she bit the lower one.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Extending her tongue again, she flicked it back and forth . . . then she opened her mouth wide.

Luke’s eyes squeezed shut and his head fell back. But his hands came forward.

They were such great hands, strong, blunt-tipped, the veins that ran down the backs of them standing out in stark relief.

He undid the button of his fly. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m not going to beg you.” She did some hand work of her own, moving over the front of her shirt. “The timing is bad anyway, right?”

“Really fucking bad.” And yet he drew the zipper down. “The worst.”

“Couldn’t be worse.” She drew a circle around her breast, imagining that it was his touch, his fingers. “Ever.”

“Ever.”

The erection that broke out of his fly was thick and long—and oh, God. Big. And as he wrapped his beautiful hand around it, she bit her lower lip again.

“Rio . . .”

As he hesitated, she shook her head and continued to caress her breast on top of her shirt. “I’m not even going to say please. So don’t hold your breath for that. Give me what I want or not. I’ll be fine either way—you, on the other, may be uncomfortable for the rest of the night.”

With her other hand, she went between her legs, spreading them a little, touching herself through her pants, through her underwear . . . through the insanity that had so clearly taken over her judgment. In this moment, though, all she knew was that she was tired of waging a war against an intangible, disinterested enemy of shoulds, and woulds, and coulds. She hadn’t been just a woman in a very, very long time, and staring up at Luke right now? It was impossible to do anything but feel.

And yeah, sure, fine, maybe the concussion(s) had wiped out the risk-assessment portion of her brain.

But she really didn’t care.

“I don’t get even a please?” Luke murmured.

“No, that’s your job. To do the begging.”

“Me?” When she nodded, he stroked his shaft with that palm of his. Up and down. “As in . . .”

“‘Rio, will you please . . .’”

“Please what?” Another stroke. All the way to the big head. “What comes next?”

“I can’t remember. Sorry. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, pushing them past her lips. Then she let her eyes roll back in her head as she drew them in deep and retracted them. Drew them in deep and brought them back out again.

“Oh, fuck, Rio, please suck my cock,” he blurted.





That mouth.

Those lips.

Those two fingers going in and out of that mouth and those lips, in and out, in and out—and then came the tongue. As Rio licked around the glistening digits, her talented, little pink—

Lucan fell off the cliff and threw out some combination of syllables. He wasn’t sure what he’d said, exactly—but “PLEASE” had been in there front and center.

Just like she’d wanted it to be.

And hell, at the rate she was going, he would have said anything she wanted him to—state capitals, names of countries. A goddamn grocery list.

“Well,” she murmured, “since you asked so nicely.”

Her arms extended out again, and he felt her hands slip around the backs of his thighs once more.

“Gimme,” she whispered. “Let me taste you.”

With a feeling of unreality, Lucan widened his stance and lowered his thumping erection right into her—

Her tongue came first. She licked at his tip, flicked at it, and teased some more until his legs shook. And then, just as he was about to lose it, just as his whole arm was trembling, when the release was going to happen—

Rio opened wide and took him down.

The shock of exactly what he had expected and had wanted made him go momentarily numb—and that was the only reason he didn’t come right away. And then there was the incomprehensible sight of his girth stretching her lips wide, the white slice of her lower teeth flashing, the column of her throat so very exposed—

So tempting to his fangs.

As they tingled and dropped down, a cold blast of warning went through him. No, he couldn’t go there. He couldn’t let that fantasy, of biting her, of sucking something of hers down deep, get too far.

He was already on the verge of losing control, and he would not, could never, hurt her in any way—or endanger her life by bleeding her out.

“Mmm,” she said as she swallowed him down again.

“I gotta touch you,” he growled. Or something like that. What the fuck was coming out of his mouth?

Bending over her, he went for her pants, attacking the fly with sloppy, sloppy hands. Meanwhile, where she was working him, she took over where his grip had been, tight, tight palms wrapping around him and starting to pump as she sucked him off.