I slam my hands against his chest, wrap my leg around his knee and shove him. He starts to fall, then catches himself and stumbles back a step. Somehow, he retains his hold on me. Our kiss breaks for only a few seconds, long enough for my grey eyes to clash with his single golden one. Then he bends his head and slashes his mouth over mine again. Once more I’m forced to accept his brutal kiss. His fingers bruise my flesh as he grips my biceps.
I try to fight him, try to strike him, but he slaps my arms away. I try to knee him in the groin, but he throws me back against the wall, lifts me and thrusts his knee between my legs. I gasp at the forceful contact of his knee slamming into my pussy. The blow shocks me, but it's not enough to hurt me. My heart is thundering, my blood is pumping, and the scent of sweaty male flesh is pounding through my head.
I slam my fists against his shoulders with all my strength, then I grip his hair so tight that I can feel some of the strands tear from his head. I kiss him back, pouring all of my anger into the kiss.
My unexpected response lights a new fire in Wolfe. Our kiss takes on a decidedly erotic turn as he pulls away far enough to run his mouth down the side of my neck, sinking his teeth in deep enough to mark me. At this point I can barely breathe as the air rushes in and out of me in short gasps. Desire floods through me as I cling to him, alternately trying to push him away and pull him closer.
I fight him for supremacy, finally shoving against the wall hard enough to force him to stumble back. With me in his arms he's off balance. I take advantage, twisting in his grip and wrapping my legs around his, thumping my heels into the back of his knees.
He buckles and together we fall, slamming against the floor next to the hole. With a thunderous crack, the boards break beneath us and we go plummeting into the basement of the hotel. Broken floorboards, dust and vines fall through with us.
I let out a short sharp scream as we fall. We hit something soft enough to cushion the fall, bouncing together and then rolling off. I land heavily on top of Wolfe. Shocked, I blink into the dusty air and look over, realizing that we fell onto a pile of old mattresses.
"Good aim," I murmur, my voice cracking with a cough. I looked down at Wolfe. "You hurt?"
"Not bad enough."
I frown at him. "Bad enough for what?"
He flips me onto my back so fast the room spins crazily around me and I'm left blinking up at the bright hole that we've made in the hotel floor. "Not hurt bad enough that I can't fuck you."
"Fuck me?" I gasp.
Instead of answering, he shows me. He reaches down between us, grips the laces of my leather pants and tears them open. My body shudders at the impact of the tearing cloth, but at this point I'm so ready to feel him inside me, that I help him by kicking them off my legs. While I get rid of my pants, he reaches down to his own laces, untying them and pulling himself free.
I lean up on my elbows, squinting in the dusty darkness, trying to see his cock. I felt it pressed against me before and know that, given his sheer size, it must be enormous, but I'd like to at least see it once before it makes its way into my body. I'm doomed to disappointment though; both the surrounding darkness and Wolfe thwart me.
He climbs back over top of me, grips my ponytail in one hand, and yanks my head back at the same time as he pulls my legs open. He wraps an arm around my back, lifts me up and rolls us until I'm poised directly above him.
My heart hammers in fear and anticipation. I thank god that our fight upstairs made me wet for him, or he would split me in two as he slams me down onto his engorged cock. Still, the pressure is agony as he forces his way up inside my body. I scream out and beat him with my fists while he holds me against his body so tight that I can feel my ribs creaking.
"You motherfucker, let me up!" I demand, tears springing to my eyes from the pain.
He ignores me, burying his head in my shoulder as I continue to beat and pull at him, yanking his hair and scratching the skin around his neck. He murmurs in my ear, trying to reassure me, telling me that it'll stop hurting soon.
"I'm not a virgin, you monster cock fucker!" I shout at him. "Sex isn't supposed to hurt this much."
Finally, he grips me by the ponytail again, pulls my head back and lifts his head to look at me. "You haven't had sex in over a year and I’m a big fucking man. It was always going to hurt. Shut up and settle down or it won’t be good for you."
Arrogant fuck!
I sniff angrily, swiping at the tears threatening to spill. "You’re such an asshole." But he's right, the pain is starting to ebb, the pressure giving way to tiny sparks of pleasure, lighting a fire through my body.
He starts to move me, gripping my hips and forcing me to undulate on top of him, my pussy clinging tightly to his engorged cock. I swear I can feel every vein and every ridge he has packed in there.
He continues to rock me, back and forth, back and forth, the tension vibrating through his arms. I know that he wants to pick me up and slam me down onto him, to fuck me for all he's worth. According to him, he’s been waiting a long time for this. I'm amazed at his control. He must be doing this for me, so that I experience as much pleasure as him without too much pain.
This thought allows me to give up my control, to wrap my arms around his shoulders and relax – to feel. I moan against his neck, giving in to the desire to lick him, to draw his masculine taste into my mouth. I like it so much that I wiggle a little closer and go in for more, running my lips and tongue from his ear down his neck to his shoulder where I sink my teeth in and bite down.
He groans and clutches me even harder, making my pussy spasm around him. A few more strokes and I’m right on the edge, ready to come for him, ready to come on the man who has dictated so many years of my life.
The coiled tension gives way in an explosion of pleasure as an orgasm rips through me. His fingers dig hard into my hips and ass as he continues to use my body to stroke himself to his own edge. Seconds later he follows me over, tipping his head back far enough that I have complete access to his throat as he comes. I sink my teeth in hard enough to draw blood as he shoots hot spurts of semen deep into my body.
He shouts again and brings his hand up to cup the back of my head. I think he's going to yank me away from his flesh. Instead, he pushes me closer, pushing my teeth even deeper into his skin. If he doesn't stop, I'm going to scar him. He doesn't seem to care though and the moment goes on and on. Me biting him, while our bodies explode in unison, waves of pleasure washing over me and on to him, then back again.
Hearts thundering, he finally lets go of my head and I'm able to detach myself from his throat. I lean back just enough to stare at his face in bewilderment. My own face must reflect an expression of utter shock. I can't believe we just did that. I can't believe we fell through the floor of the hotel and then fucked it out.
I would laugh and make a joke, but the expression on Wolfe’s face stops me. Stops me completely. He's gazing at me with a combination of utter devotion, fierce protectiveness and… love.
Twenty-Nine
Wolfe
She scrambles away from me as though the bats of hell are after her, leaping to her feet and staring at me accusingly, breaking the moment.
I'm not surprised and I'm not hurt by her reaction. I knew that Skye would take time to come around, that it would be a long road to our union. I'm surprised that we've made it this far so quickly. It’s been just under two months since her arrival in Sanctuary and we’ve made more progress than I thought possible.
"Where are my pants?" she says, almost to herself as she searches for them on the floor.
I reach for them and hand them over. She snatches them from me and hisses, "Don't touch me."
I don't say anything. I'll give her time to calm down and sort this new development out in her head. She'll have to come around to my way of thinking, but I'm willing to give her some time to do that. Now that we’ve established intimacy between us, I have no intention of allowing our relationship to slide back into a safe zone for her. She'l
l have to suck it up and learn to live with me as a constant in her life.
I push myself up and stretch, arms over my head, muscles crackling. My body feels incredible, energized, sated. I feel like I can take on anything. Now would be a good time for a horde of Primitives to show up. But first, we have to figure out how to get out of this basement.
I'm about to suggest that we start searching in the darkness for another exit, when one of the men shouts down to us. "Everything okay? We heard screaming."
"If this is your response time to Skye’s screams, then we’ll be discussing your ability to protect her." I gaze steadily up at the face of Kingston as he peeks over the edge.
"Put your fucking dick back in your pants," Skye hisses at me, low enough that only I can hear.
I shrug and tuck myself away, relacing the leather and straightening my shirt. I double check that all of my weapons are still strapped on. Skye does the same while Kingston fetches a rope.
Skye doesn't have the upper body strength to climb out herself, so I help her up onto the rope and hold her steady from the bottom as Kingston pulls. She reaches out with one hand to grip the edge of the gaping hole which crumbles under her fingertips. She loses her grip and nearly lets go of the rope as she swings wildly.
"Grab the beam, not the rotting boards," I growl up at her.
"This isn't as easy as it looks!" she yells back.
My lips twist in a smirk. Feisty as always, even after falling through the floor of the hotel and getting thoroughly fucked by a man she professes to hate.
When my turn comes, I climb the rope with some help from Kingston, who groans in protest as he’s forced to bear my weight. I reach for a loadbearing beam, now exposed from our fall through the floor, and drag myself through the hole. I sit on the edge and glance around, making sure Skye is nearby.
She’s standing behind Kingston, holding onto the rope. She must've helped him haul me back up. She can't despise me that much. When she realizes what I'm thinking, she drops the rope as though it's scorching hot and steps back, her eyes narrowing on my face. She opens her mouth to say something scathing but a shout from outside draws our attention.
"Incoming!"
All three of us are experienced soldiers and our weapons are out within seconds. "Kingston, you and I will take posts by the door. Skye, you stand back and take out any that make it past us."
Skye pouts. "You aren’t going to leave any for me though."
"Just do it," I growl at her.
Her bloodthirstiness might be a turn on, but I need her to listen in moments of potential emergency. Without another word, she falls back, assuming a battle position. Legs spread and braced, one slightly in front of the other so she can launch herself into an attack if need be. Her gun hand is up, protecting her chest, while her knife hand stays low. Her eyes are trained on the door. Pride fills me as I look at her. I taught this woman everything she knows about fighting Primitives and it's clear that she took my advice to heart.
Kingston and I take position on either side of the main door, which is cracked open just enough for me to see into the street. Our people are battling a horde of primitives 20 to 30 strong. So far as I can tell there are no losses on our side, but my men are good fighters and know how to keep their heads down while taking out the enemy.
One of my men leaps onto the hotel steps as a group of five Primitives circle him, pushing him back. He lets out a savage growl and shoots the nearest one in the head. A spray of blood arcs over top of him and splatters across the door. He throws himself into the attack, picking up a screaming, writhing Primitive and throwing it at two of others, shoving them back into the street and then following them. He did his job, luring them to the hotel.
I let out a whistle, drawing the attention of the three who had fallen on their dead comrade, tearing at his flesh with their teeth. A disgusting practice that I can't understand. They don't attack and eat each other while they’re alive, but the second one of them expires, it becomes fresh meat.
At my whistle a female’s head whips around, her dirty black hair flying around her face and slapping her thin cheek, which is pierced through with nails. She lurches to her feet and lunges at us. I make it easy for her. I kick the door wide open and allow her to hurl herself inside.
"Take her alive," I shout to Kingston.
The female is small. Though she looks feisty, a common characteristic of Primitives, she won't be able to put up the strength of an adult male zombie.
Kingston slams his blade into her shoulder, severing the joint and pinning her to the vined wall behind her. She lets out a scream of fury and reaches out in an attempt to scratch any part of him she can get. He knocks her arms aside and throws a bag over her head, complying with the process of capture that I'd outlined to all the men. Immobilize them, cover their faces so they can't bite, secure the limbs. He does the last part with ease, able to dodge her flying hands easier now that she can't see. One down, two to go.
"Wolfe, throw one my way!"
I actually laugh out loud as Skye begs me to let her fight a Primitive. There’s a kind of pure joy in fighting side-by-side with my woman in a battle we chose, rather than one we are forced to endure.
Skye gets what she wants when the next two Primitives come hurtling through the door. I'm able to wrap an arm around the neck of one who immediately attempts to sink his teeth into my forearm. He's thwarted though, since I'm wearing a leather wrist cuff. I use his own weapon against him by thrusting my arm further into his face and forcing his mouth wide open. His arms flail but he doesn’t land any blows. I drag a hood from my belt and shove it over his head, pulling my arm away in time to cover his mouth completely before tying it off at his neck. Then I yank his arms behind him and rapidly tie them tightly together.
When I finish, I toss him toward Kingston. "Secure this one."
I turn to see how Skye is faring with the one that got past me. This one looks more cunning than the others. He’s circling her, attempting to get behind her so he can bite her neck while she's defenseless. Skye is too smart to fall for his basic plan and makes sure that her back is against the wall, her sharp knife at the ready and her gun out. I can see the tension thrumming through her arm as she forces her finger off the trigger. She badly wants to kill this Primitive, her blood thirst alive and strong, but good sense prevails. We’re on a mission to take them alive, whether we like it or not.
I cross my arms over my chest and watch as she plays cat and mouse with the Primitive, allowing him to lunge at her before dancing away from his outstretched arms. Her moves are beautiful, like a wild mountain cat dancing in then lunging away as she stalks her prey. It makes me hard and I want to fuck her all over again the moment we’re done here.
Finally, the Primitive makes a mistake and steps too close to the crumbling floor. With a shriek he goes through the wood and plunges into the basement. Skye throws me a grin that’s so wide and bright I’m momentarily stunned. She shoves away from the wall and leaps after the Primitive, aiming for the pile of mattresses below.
"Skye,” I shout after her as she plunges through the dark hole.
I hate that I can't see her. Hate that she's now playing her cat and mouse game in the dark. We have no idea if zombie eyes can see better in the dark, but I’ve long suspected this to be is true, which puts my woman at a disadvantage.
Without a second thought, I step through the hole and drop into the basement. Once again, I land on something soft, but it’s not the pile of mattresses I was hoping for. An old moldy couch breaks with a deafening crack as I land directly in the middle. I topple backwards, losing sight of Skye and the zombie.
"Motherfucker,” I growl, shoving myself quickly to my feet and whipping my head around to find Skye.
"I'm not hauling your heavy ass out of here again," she says calmly through the dust filled shadows.
I look to my left and squint. I'm able to just barely make out the outline of her sitting on top of the prone Primitive. Her knife is sticking out
of its back, but the hood is securely in place and the Primitive’s hands are tied behind it. She has secured her zombie. Whether it's alive or not remains to be determined.
I shout up to Kingston to grab someone for backup to help get us out of the basement…again. Seconds later a rope is dangled down. Skye places her booted foot in the center of the Primitive’s back and yanks her knife out. It lets out an angry scream telling me that it's definitely still alive and kicking. She wipes and sheaths her knife and together we drag the Primitive to the rope and secure it. The Primitive is dragged back up through the hole and I can hear a slight scuffle as it’s thrown into the corner with the other two.
The rope is dangled back into the hole and I hand it to Skye who wraps it around her waist and shouts up at the men to start pulling. Skye disappears and then it's my turn once more. Once we’re out of the hole I glance around. I can still hear fighting coming from the street, so I shout through the door, "Time to finish, boys. We got our three."
A whoop of delight goes up from my men as the fighting takes on a decidedly sinister and more deadly turn. Within minutes, the rest of the horde are taken care of.
Skye comes to stand beside me on the front steps of the crumbling hotel. I glance down at her. She's covered in blood and there are scratches on her neck and the side of her face, but she looks completely satisfied. The soft glow of the setting sun lights her up, making her look like a deadly ethereal goddess.
I can't help myself, I grab her shoulder, turn her on the spot, wrap my arms around her and lay a kiss on her in front of everyone, humans and Primitives alike. She gasps into my mouth and stiffens, but she doesn't push me away. Instead, she clutches my leather vest and drags me closer, kissing me back, the adrenaline of the kill rushing through her veins. Fighting is like fucking: exhilarating and satisfying all at the same time.
The Road to Wolfe (The Sanctuary Series Book 4) Page 17