Carnal Secrets (The Phoenix Pack #3)(42)
Author: Suzanne Wright

She stomped up the driveway and unlocked her front door, intent on letting him stew. But then she changed her mind. Twirling sharply, she growled. “Why did you drag me out of there if you’re going to give me the silent treatment? If you’ve got something to say, say it. If you want to yell at me, do it.”

“Go inside. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not arguing with you in the middle of the street, and I’m definitely not doing it when we’ve got an audience.” The Nazi’s wolves were parked on the opposite side of the road, and the humans were about five car spaces away from the motor home.

“So come over here then.” It was a dare, and she wasn’t sure where the hell it had come from. No alpha would ignore a dare, and it seemed that her alpha—yes, her alpha—was no different.

Despite that Nick badly needed his pills, he ignored the pain and slowly began to cover the distance between him and Shaya. He half-expected her to run inside and shut the door, but she didn’t react in any way—didn’t cower, didn’t lower her eyes, didn’t fidget or back away. Instead, she remained where she stood in the doorway with her head held high, shoulders straight, and maintaining eye contact. Good girl.

“Now if you want to subject me to a lecture, do it.”

“I have no idea what to say. I’ve been patient, Shay. I’ve let things move at your pace even though it hurts on every level to hold back. And what do you do? Go on a date with a goofy web designer who blushes even more than you do. The only reason he’s still conscious is that Derren and Kent managed to calm me down to some extent before I got inside the restaurant. Why didn’t you tell me about your date? Had you planned to keep it from me altogether?”

“I was going to tell you afterward.”

“You know, Shaya, if you’d wanted to hurt me, you could have just stabbed me in the f**king chest and got it over with.”

Guilt nibbled even harder at Shaya as she heard the despondency in his voice. She also found that she didn’t like that he’d called her “Shaya.” She’d been getting used to him shortening her name, and she even kind of liked it. He abandoned you, remember, a voice inside her snapped. Yes, he had. But he had also apologized to her, had also been gentle with her, and had never once lost his patience with her no matter what she said or did. Even when she’d physically hurt him that first night, he’d never hurt her, never tried to intimidate her, and never tried to suppress her with his dominant vibes. More importantly, he hadn’t left her no matter what she’d done. “It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, really?” His voice dripped with skepticism.

“Okay, maybe I wanted you to hurt a little. But I needed to know you weren’t going to abandon me again.”

“Ah, I see; well I’m so glad I passed your little test,” he said bitterly. At this point, his head was starting to pound so hard that the sound of his own voice hurt. “What you’re saying then is that, basically, everything I’ve done since I got here hasn’t made an ounce of difference to you.”

“That’s not what I meant. If you want the truth—”

“Oh yeah, I want the truth.”

“—it’s working. But don’t you get it? I never wanted it to work, but it has. I never wanted you to worm your way into my life, but you have. I never wanted to care if you left, but I do. I never wanted to dream about you, but I do, and then I wake up horny with no relief in sight.”

“You want relief?” Quiet, gruff words.

She tensed. Before she could even think to answer, he’d pushed her inside the house, kicked the door shut, and slammed her against the wall. Then his mouth was on hers and he was devouring her. There was nothing gentle or coaxing about the kiss. His mouth ravished hers, his tongue forcefully thrust into her mouth, and he kissed her like it was the last thing he would do before he died. It was deep, commanding, devastating. The force with which he took her mouth should have scared her, but instead she was on fire, and all she could do was kiss him back. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else.

Both his hands threaded into her hair, angling her head exactly how he wanted it. There was no denying that just then his lips and tongue completely owned her. It felt like a claiming, a promise, and a warning. Then he was sucking on her tongue while digging his hips into hers, crowding her with his body in a way that had her level of arousal spiking. As one hand splayed possessively over her stomach, the other suddenly yanked on her hair, forcing her head back and breaking the kiss. His face loomed over hers; his expression was fierce.

“I’m not going to f**k you.” As he spoke, he slid the hand on her stomach down to the hem of her skirt and bunched it up around her waist. “I’m not going to be some casual encounter. I want you to want me, your mate—not sex. But if you need relief that badly, I’ll give it to you.” He cupped her hard. Gasping, she reflexively snapped her legs together, effectively trapping his hand. He shook his head, his gaze chastising. “Open your legs.”

“What?” she squeaked at the very firm command, feeling off-balance by his sudden change of mood. He didn’t repeat himself, just raised an expectant brow at her. Gulping, Shaya slowly did as he’d asked.

He pushed two fingers past her panties and drove them into her. So hot and wet. “Mine, Shaya. Understand? You’re mine, and this pu**y is mine. And if you ever again think about giving another guy what’s mine, I’ll kill him. I will. I’ll f**king tear him apart, and then I’ll spank your ass so goddamn hard, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

Shaya would have told him that she’d never intended to sleep with Simon, but then Nick was on his knees. He’d hiked one of her legs over his shoulder, and he was tearing off her panties. Only an idiot would distract him from what he was doing. She was a bitch, but she wasn’t an idiot.

When she felt the tip of his tongue swirl around her clit, her head fell back just as her eyelids drifted shut. She had been so damn aroused for so damn long that that one touch had her melting against the wall, moaning. As his tongue fluttered between her folds, she moved the hands she’d braced against the wall to his hair and pulled, needing more. He growled against her flesh, making her womb clench. She was glad he was gripping her thighs hard because she strongly doubted she’d be able to stand without help.

His tongue branded her with every stroke, reducing her to a sensual state that was so intense, she was almost afraid of it—almost afraid of her body’s equally intense response. Everything other than the feel of his mouth faded away as he licked, sucked, nipped, and f**ked her with his tongue. And she moaned, gasped, groaned, whimpered, and sobbed. But he didn’t let up, didn’t give her any reprieve, practically torturing her with pleasure. He might have been the one on his knees, but it wasn’t Shaya who was in control. With his unrelenting grip, Nick controlled her every movement. With his talented mouth, he controlled her pleasure and her body’s responses.