It Ain't Me, Babe

Rider was gone—for good.

Styx stood before me, panting, glowering, his ripped muscles bulging under his black T-shirt. He lifted his hand, wiping blood from his lip.

Ky hightailed it from the hallway, leaving us all alone.

“Styx—”

Styx flew at me and slammed me back against the wall, his mouth crashing to mine. I broke away, palming his chest. “How could you do that? How could you hurt him like that? He is broken-hearted! You did not need to beat him!”

His eyes seemed to burn. “Fucker d-deserved it. I’m d-done with the c-cunt trying to have you. You’re mine.” Styx’s fingers ran over my mouth and my eyes rolled back at his gentleness. “I own th-these perfect d-damn lips.” His fingers then ran across my cheeks. “Th-these wolf e-eyes.” Then he cupped my face and kissed my nose. “This f-f-fuckin’ t-twitchin’ nose!” Styx leaned in and his tongue ran around the shell of my ear. “You n-need to let him the f**k g-go. This is m-me, Mae. This i-is wh-who I am! You w-want this… us… you t-take me as I am.”

“Styx—” I cried as his hands crept up to fist in my hair, my tears falling at his words, and he locked me in his embrace. I could not move an inch.

Styx’s lip ring scraped against my lips as his tongue fought and plundered its way into my mouth. His tongue found mine and it dominated, demonstrating his absolute control. He was so raw, so unrestrained when it came to me, and my thighs clenched together in need. Lord, I wanted him so much… exactly how he was.

A long moan ripped from my throat, my anger quickly forgotten as a hand slipped under my tank and aggressively palmed my breast. His fingers rolled and plucked at my ni**les and I broke away with a hiss, Styx’s hazel eyes wild and untamed. My hands smacked down hard on his back; his wide, huge muscles shifted and twitched under my fingers as his teeth bit into my neck.

“Styx!” I yelled as his fingers moved to rip at my leathers, wrenching them down my legs, my panties following shortly after. He stepped on the center of my pants around my ankles.

“Off,” he growled.

Moisture pooled between my legs at his order, and I lifted my feet from my leathers.

I was open, bare and more than ready.

Styx’s nostrils flared, then his fingers plunged in me. My hands roamed around his hair and I clutched the messy dark strands, already feeling the butterflies building in my stomach. Then all too soon, he withdrew, only to fill me to the hilt in one hard thrust with his hard length.

Gripping my thighs around his waist, Styx pounded me against the wall. We had never made love like this before—hard, rough, wild… so desperate.

“Mine,” Styx groaned, deep, guttural, possessive, against my neck.

His busy mouth latched onto my breast, his teeth grazing and pulling at my ni**les. “Ah! Styx!”

“Mine!” he growled, pumping even harder, his fingers circling my clitoris as my shoulder blades burned with the friction of the wall. I had never felt so full.

My hands gripped hard on Styx’s shoulders, clawing and raking at his skin. It was too much—the fire, the burning… the pressure—too much, and with a final slam, light burst behind my eyes, pleasure a rolling thunder through my body—jerking, invading, overwhelming.

Styx’s hold became almost painful on my thighs, and he stilled. “MINE!” he bellowed, spraying his warmth into my womb, his hot sweet breath panting into my neck. My thighs shook with overexertion and our bodies were slick with sweat.

Not a word passed between us as we caught our breath.

Styx nuzzled his face into my exposed chest, his hot tongue lapping and kissing at my br**sts, red teeth marks decorating my pale skin. I combed through his hair with my fingers, deep sounds of pleasure rumbling up from his throat.

“Mine… mine… mine…” he murmured over and over before kissing across my collarbone, up my throat, and finally onto my mouth. The kiss was deep and meaningful but short. Styx pulled back, staring into my eyes, his length still twitching inside me.

“I love you,” I whispered, gazing into his eyes.

“M-Mae,” he groaned. “You’re n-not going an-anywhere. R-right?”

“Right, baby,” I assured as I ran my finger down his cheek.

“Mine,” he sighed in relief.

“Yours.”

I cupped his rough, unshaven cheeks. “I did not kiss him back.”

Styx stilled and I could see the anger seeping back into his ruggedly handsome face, his muscled shoulders expanding.

“Styx, I did not. He was drunk and sad and reacted poorly… erratically. He is my friend… but he is not you.”