Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(66)
She straightened in her chair and twisted to face him. “Get ready.”
Trick blinked. “For what?”
“It should hit us any minute now.”
“What do you—?” Red-hot arousal slammed into him and flooded his system. Just like that, his blood thickened, his body tightened, and his cock filled to bursting. And then the drive to soothe her disappeared, completely drowned out by the urge to take and claim and mate. He double-blinked. “Fuck.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly bone-dry. “Yeah, we need to fuck.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They collided. Frankie didn’t remember getting to her feet. One second she’d been sitting on the chair, needing him so badly it hurt; the next thing she knew they were both standing upright and he was kissing the breath from her lungs.
Growling and groaning, they clawed off each other’s clothes. She fisted his cock—it was long and thick and warm—and began to pump. He thrust into her grip, sucking on her pulse and grunting into her neck.
She wanted his cock in her mouth. Needed him to feel her mouth around him. It was a primal thing she couldn’t quite explain, but it was all tied up in this undying need to brand him as hers.
Not much took Trick off guard, but he’d been so caught up in Frankie’s taste that he almost stumbled when she suddenly dropped to her knees. Her lips closed around the head of his cock, and her tongue licked and danced. “Suck,” he rumbled. But she didn’t. She ran her tongue along his length and lapped up the drop of pre-come. He growled. “I said suck it, not play with it.”
She finally took him in her mouth, and Trick fisted her hair. “Perfect for bunching in my hands while I fuck your mouth.” He pumped his hips, mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips over and over. “You still look so innocent, even with your mouth wrapped around my dick.” She swallowed, and her throat contracted around him. “Jesus. You’re going to make me come. I’m not ready yet.” He stilled his hips and tugged on her hair. “Get up.” The moment she was upright, he propped her on the patio table. “Lay back and spread your legs. My turn.”
Frankie shook her head. She loved his fingers and his tongue, but she didn’t have the patience for foreplay. Her pussy throbbed and ached. She wanted him in her, fucking her, claiming her.
Trick arched a brow. “I want the taste of you in my mouth. You can give it to me or I can take it.” Her eyes narrowed, but she lay back and spread her thighs. “Good girl.” He sank two fingers inside her. “Soaking wet.”
Frankie gripped the edges of the table as he lifted her hips and swiped his tongue through her folds. He growled, and his fingers bit into her as he feasted. He didn’t just lick and nip, he sucked at her folds, swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit, and repeatedly stabbed his tongue inside her. The friction built, wound her tighter and tighter, until she just couldn’t take any more. “Trick . . .” It was a warning. She was going to come.
Trick hooked her legs over his shoulders, sucked a nipple into his mouth, and plunged deep into her pussy. And she came. He ground his teeth, fighting the urge to explode along with her. His cock throbbed inside her, as if objecting to him holding back.
Panting, Frankie practically melted against the table. That had been one hell of an orgasm, but her pussy still ached. She got the feeling that the mating urge wouldn’t cool until he’d come deep inside her. “Fuck me.”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you all right.” He drew back until only the head of his cock was inside her, and then he slammed home. Her pussy clamped around him, so wet and tight it was sheer fucking heaven. And Trick lost all pretense of control. He brutally hammered into her. And that was no exaggeration. He’d been fighting the drive to claim her for weeks, and all that frustration poured out of him in a frenzy of violent thrusts. “Tell me to stop.” Hearing her say it would be the only thing that could ease that frenzy.
She shook her head, eyes glinting with panic. “No, don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”
Fuck. He kept on powering into her, branding her with every possessive stroke, driven by the need to claim and his wolf’s determination to take and own. “You looked so fucking good with my cock in your mouth. You’ll take it again. But next time, I’ll come down your throat.” Her pussy squeezed and fluttered around him.
As he stared down at her—taking in the gorgeous tattoos, the hot little piercing, the way her tits jiggled with each thrust, and the way her eyes glazed over—he felt his own release closing in on him.
He leaned over her. “Bite me,” he growled. “Mark me, Frankie.” He knew that the moment he sank his own teeth into her skin, the moment he finally claimed what belonged to him, his cock would fucking detonate. He didn’t want to be midorgasm and half out of his mind when she claimed him; he wanted to feel every second of it. “Do it,” he growled.
Needing it as badly as he did, Frankie reared up and bit down hard on the crook of his neck, drawing blood—she sucked and licked, branding him, just as her wolf demanded.
“Fuck, baby.” He sucked her pulse into his mouth, felt it beating there hard and fast, and he sank his teeth down hard enough to break the skin. His release slammed into him, and he roughly rammed his cock deep as he exploded. Her pussy contracted around him as a scream tore from her throat and she came. All the while, he sucked and licked to leave that definite mark that would never fade, that would declare to the world that she belonged to him.