I’m babbling as I drive my hips harder into hers, that juicy ass bouncing as I pound into her sweet omega pussy. She’s begging and pleading, her voice so broken and beautiful and mine. I’ve never wanted someone like this before, never felt this primal urge to claim and protect anyone before. But Delilah, sweet, innocent, tragic, resilient, beautiful Delilah brings out a part of me that’s been dormant for decades.
I pull out as I feel the edge of my release, rolling onto my back and pulling Delilah over me. She protests for a moment, but I don’t care. I need to see her face this time. I need to see her as I fill her. One of my hands grips the ropes to steady her as she straddles me while the other guides my cock back to her pussy. We groan in unison as she sinks down my length, somehow taking more of me than before.
“Look at me,” I snarl, thrusting hard and fast from below.
Delilah’s eyes find me, and I grin in feral delight. Her eyes don’t move from mine even as she struggles to hold herself up, her thighs trembling.
“That’s it. Such a good girl. Are you ready to come for me, honey?” I pant, feeling my balls tightening.
She nods emphatically, hair flying around her flushed face. “Yes, Mr. Cross. Please. I need to come so bad. Please let me come.”
I growl in approval, my hips losing their steady rhythm. I pull her down as I thrust up until, all at once, lightning streaks down my spine and I roar. My cock throbs inside her pulsing channel, cum pumping deep within her. My release triggers hers, and her walls clamp down on me, milking me for every drop of seed I have.
It takes several long moments for me to stop coming, even as my cock remains hard inside her. I’m barely over my first release and I already want to fill her again. But looking up at her face, I see the exhaustion pulling down her features. I reach over to my bedside table, grabbing a pair of shears from within the drawer. I don’tpull out as I cut Delilah free, guiding her down as I massage her limbs to restore blood flow.
“How are you feeling, honey?” I ask gently.
“Puddle,” she mumbles, resting her head on my chest.
I chuckle softly. “The best puddle in the world.”
I feel her smile against my skin as I help arrange her body into a comfortable position, never withdrawing my cock from inside her. She’s half draped over me, her leg hitched across my lower belly, my arm acting as her pillow.
“Is this okay?” I whisper, kissing every part of her face I can reach. “I don’t want to pull out yet.”
Delilah nods, sighing and visibly melting in my arms. “I don’t want you to, either.”
My heart swells and I pull her closer. My cock is slowly softening but I don’t care. I want to be this close to Delilah for as long as I can. When I pull back to look at her face, I chuckle softly to myself before leaning in to kiss her forehead. She’s already asleep in my arms. Exactly where she’s supposed to be.
Chapter fifty-two
Istompawayfromthe pack as they start discussing the final details for the movement plan tomorrow. I know I’m not going to be any help right now, not with the adrenaline and anger running through me. So I retreat to my room and to my shower, stripping off and getting under a lukewarm spray of water.
The emotions of the last half hour hit me again in waves. Shock, disbelief, fear, rage. Waking up from a dead sleep to load up a gun and chase after Delilah was not something I ever thought I’d have to do. She’s been so smart, so sensible. Why the fuck would she think it’s a good idea to go out in the middle of the night? Did she not hear our multiple warnings about the bears being moreactive? Or hell, even the psycho serial killer camped out somewhere nearby who wants nothing more than the opportunity to drag her away from us?
Why was she trying to leave? Siren said something about having a hard conversation, but we’ve had plenty of those. I growl to myself, hurt manifesting as anger. After everything we’ve done, she just tried to walk out?
I take several deep breaths, but they’re not helping. I want to simultaneously wring her neck for scaring us like that and tie her to a radiator so she doesn’t do it again. But if I go out there and confront her while I’m in this mental state, I’m going to undo the weeks of trust we’ve been building. And that is the last thing I want to do.
The water starts to turn cold and I shut off the shower, not bothering to actually wash. I’d just showered before bed, and that rinse was enough to get the sweat off me. I dress in sleep clothes again, forcing myself to lay down and meditate. Focus on my breathing, not my emotions. I’m able to calm down enough to sleep a little, but it’s a light sleep. The first sign of movement has me up and alert. Delilah again.
I don’t bother putting on a shirt as I stalk out of my room and follow her, my teeth clenched so hard I can almost hear them cracking. If she’s trying to sneak out again, I’m going to turn her ass so red, they’ll have to find a new name for the color. Thankfully, she’s just in the kitchen, puttering around as she starts to make breakfast. She looks up and freezes when she scents me, her cheeks turning red before she looks down again.
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask, words coming out a little harsher than I had intended. But I’m still pissed, and she should know it.
She nods, going still and quiet. I rub a hand over my face and let out a long sigh. Why does she have to look so beautifully tragic when she’s upset? It makes it incredibly difficult to continue being mad.
“What were you thinkin’, baby doll? Running off like that last night?”
“I just wanted some air and then there was the trap. I wanted to go back inside, but then a bear came out of the woods and I just…” Her voice is tiny, and trails off as she shrinks before my eyes.
I shift my weight, sighing heavily before crossing my arms over my chest. I hate seeing her like this, but I can’t get the anger out of my veins. No, not anger. Hurt.She tried to leave, and I refuse to let that happen. I don’t think too hard about how much I’ve become attached to her, choosing to focus on the anger. That I can deal with. I want to punish her, but I don’t know if it’s going to do more harm than good.
“Look at me, baby doll.”
She lifts her head at the stern tone of my voice. I close the distance between us and cup her jaw, making sure she maintains eye contact with me. Her scent, her true scent, comes through the thin layer of ash and rot that usually emanates from her. Night blooming jasmine and dark chocolate, bitter and decadent. I want to lean in and fill my lungs with it, to taste it on her skin.
“You scared the living daylights outta me, baby doll. Outta all of us. I know you feel bad, but I can’t let you go unpunished for this,” I murmur, brushing her cheek with my thumb.