Chapter 7 CHAPTER 7
BEWARE THE CONTENT BELOW IS OF ADULT CONTENT 18PG
“Can we talk?” I was too shocked and scared so much that my voice got stuck in my throat. A sharp elbow in my lungs from Tasha brought me back to my senses. “Why? Last time I saw you, you didn’t even bother acknowledging me.” I said, my heart clenching, remembering the day I found out he was my mate, and he ignored me because of his wife. We were now seating at the bar when he approached us, Branden.
Is he planning to use me as some kind of mistress in his sad marriage? “That’s what I wanted to speak to you about.”
“Well, then let's go,” I said. The alcohol in my system made me brave and fierce. He led the way to a door hidden by the decoration. Before I walked, I looked back at Tasha, who was giving me a thumbs up while gulping her drink. She has always been a bad influence.
We walked into a hallway, and he led us into a room, which turned out to be a suite. Plain bedroom and bathroom. "You look like sin in that dress, Ayla." His fingers twitched at his side, as if he were fighting the urge to reach for me. The scent of his arousal hit me like a physical blow, thick and intoxicating. My nipples hardened against the fabric, betraying me. I tilted my chin up, playing at defiance even as my breath hitched. "And you look like a man who’s thinking about doing something he shouldn’t." A growl vibrated in his chest. "Every fucking second since I walked in here."
The air between us crackled, charged with the electricity of two wolves on the edge of losing control. I should have walked away. I knew I should have.
But then his hand brushed against mine, just a graze, just the barest contact, and the dam broke.
"We can’t," I whispered, though my body leaned into his, my lips parting.
"We already are," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. His fingers curled around my wrist, pulling me just a step closer, into the shadowed alcove behind a velvet curtain.
The music from the ballroom muffled, the world narrowing to just him, just the heat of his body, just the way his thumb traced slow, maddening circles over my pulse point.
"Your wife—"
"Isn’t here." His other hand slid up my thigh, beneath the slit of my dress, his touch searing through the thin lace of my stockings. "And even if she were, I don’t think I could stop." A whimper escaped me. "Branden—"
"Tell me to leave." His lips hovered over mine, so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. "Tell me no, and I’ll go."
I should have. Instead, I fisted his lapels and yanked him against me, crashing our mouths together in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger.
He groaned, deep and guttural, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise as he spun me, pressing me back against the wall.
The cold silk of the curtain brushed my bare shoulders, but his body was a furnace against mine, his erection thick and insistent through his trousers.
"Fuck, Ayla," he growled into my mouth. His hands were everywhere, one cupping my breast, his thumb rolling my nipple through the fabric until I gasped, the other sliding higher, higher, until his fingers found the damp heat between my thighs.
"Already so wet for me," he rasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at my jaw, my throat. "I can smell how much you want this."
"Shut up," I panted, arching into his touch. His fingers teased over my lace panties, the fabric already soaked.
"You talk too damn much."He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal through me.
"You love it." Then his fingers were under the lace, sliding through my folds, finding my clit with unerring precision.
I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he circled the sensitive bundle.
"Branden, please."
"Please, what?" His lips found my ear, his breath hot, his voice a sinful purr. "You want my fingers inside you, baby? You want me to fuck you with them until you’re dripping, until you’re begging for my cock?"
"Yes, yes—" The words tumbled out of me, shameless.
"Oh !Fuck !" My back bowed off the wall, my body clenching around his fingers as the orgasm ripped through me. He swallowed my cries with another bruising kiss, his fingers never still, drawing out every last tremor until I was boneless and gasping against him.
"Good girl," he murmured, finally pulling his hand free. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue. "Now it’s my turn."
Before I could protest, before I could even think, he had me spun around, my hands pressed against the wall, my ass pushed out.
The cool air hit my exposed skin as he flipped my dress up, baring me completely. I heard the rustle of his belt, the zip of his fly, and then,
"Wait—" I twisted my head to look back at him, my heart hammering. "We can’t someone could—"
"Let them watch," he growled, his cock already free, thick and flushed, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
He gave himself a slow stroke, his eyes locked on my ass. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Some poor bastard walking in on you taking my cock like a good little slut."
A fresh wave of heat flooded me. "You’re insane."
"And you’re mine." His hand cracked down on my ass, the sting making me yelp before melting into a moan.
Then his cock was there, hot and heavy, sliding through my folds, teasing my entrance. "Tell me you want it."I bit my lip, my body trembling.
"I want it."
"Louder." Another sharp slap, this time on the other cheek. "I want the whole fucking room to hear how much you need me."
"I want it!" The words tore out of me, raw and desperate. "Please, Branden, fuck me—"
He didn’t make me beg again.
With one deep, relentless thrust, he buried himself inside me, filling me so completely I saw stars. "Fuck—!Ayla—" His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging in as he bottomed out, his cock throbbing deep inside me. "You feel like heaven." I couldn’t even form words.
All I could do was moan, a long sound as he pulled back and slammed into me again, his balls slapping against my clit with every thrust.
The sounds of our bodies colliding filled the room, the slap of skin on skin, the slick slide of his cock in and out of me. My breath hitched every time he hit that perfect spot inside.
"You’re mine," he growled, his pace punishing, his cock swelling even thicker inside me. "Say it."
"Yours! I’m yours—!"
"Again." His hand snaked around my hip, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. "Say it like you mean it."
"I’m yours, Branden! Only yours—!" My voice broke on a sob as another orgasm crashed over me, my pussy clenching around him. He groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Fuck," His cock pulsed, and then he was coming, his release filling me in hot, thick spurts, his body stuttering against my me as he rode out the last waves of his climax. "Fuck, fuck—"
For a long moment, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing, the way his hands still gripped me possessively. Then, slowly, he pulled out, his cum dripping down my thighs. He turned me around, his mouth crashing onto mine in another searing kiss. "We’re not done," he murmured against my lips, his voice a dark promise.