“Relax,” Holly said, her fingers tracing his spine soothingly. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. If you go bang down her door, you’ll blow his cover. Let’s wait until the morning. Then we’ll worry.”
Even pure-instinct Jacob knew she was right. There was nothing he could do now, except wait it out. The problem was, he wasn’t very good at waiting, and long, nervous nights like this roused the long-dormant animal inside of him. It had been a long time—a very long time—since he’d let his Beast come out and play. It used to be physically painful to hold back, like something clawing at the back of his eyeballs. Now, he beat it down so often that his Beast felt weak, like it had gone into hibernation inside of him, despite the sticky-hot summer weather, ripe for mating season.
Yet, in fight-or-flight moments like these, his nerves were on fire and his senses heightened. He could feel every small stroke of Holly’s long nails. He could feel the cool breeze that kissed the bare parts of his back that the sheets left exposed. He could almost taste it then, the metallic-blood, deep-root scent of the woods, and he felt that nagging itch to lose himself in the night.
Holly, as if she could sense it, cupped the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Her tongue met his—soft and sleepy—and for a second he forgot all about the call of the night. His Beast gave a growl and then receded back inside of him, but the noise vibrated in his throat and onto her lips. The kiss lingered, deepening, and then he felt her get slower, and slower, until her lips stopped working completely and her fingers went loose in his hair.
“Holly…” No response. He glanced down at her and, though her eyes were closed, he saw that she was smiling, and he could see a hint of teeth where she bit her inside lip to keep the smile from spreading.
Ah. This was a game. He could play games. It would be a good distraction, anyway. Jacob climbed between her legs and rolled her panties down, even though she offered no help. “My queen,” he said. “My sleeping beauty.”
He reached over and drew the nightgown down, just enough to expose the rest of her breast. Perfect, full, ripe enough to bite into. In the cool air, her nipple hardened to a peak. He drew his hand down between her legs and found the soft cotton of her panties. He pressed his fingers there, rolling his touch, cupping her sex and rubbing his fingertips in small circles. She shifted, but only to open her legs wider, giving him better access.
“Sleeping girls don’t move,” he reminded her. This had, after all, been her idea. And now he was going to make her play by his rules.
He could see her stifle a grin but then she settled back against the mattress as he tugged her panties off. From here, he could see her sex clearly, a perfect pink rose, and he dipped his fingers between her naked folds. They came back wet. He took off his briefs and got on top of her, guiding himself inside of her.
Her composure broke with a gasp and he could see the flush rise in her cheeks, before she visibly bit her lip to try to quiet herself again. He wanted her, badly, craved her, and the warm hug of her pussy propelled him into full, deep stokes, needing to be as close to her as possible. She remained passive, but her pussy was alive, soaking, clinging to him. He decided to make it hard for her and wet his thumb with his tongue. He cupped one of her swollen breasts and began to flick her hard nipple repeatedly with his thumb.
He heard her inhale sharply through her nose as her breathing rate changed. Her pussy tightened around him as he played with her breasts. She began to tense and her body twitched here and there when his flicks became too sensitive. Jacob didn’t stop, however; he tugged on her breasts and felt her get tighter and tighter around him, her nipples hard as pebbles, and her eyebrows knitted, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, it seemed. Finally, she whimpered when she couldn’t take it anymore and her hands shot down to grab his wrists.
“Sensitive,” she squeaked.
He took her hands in his instead and pinned them above her head. “Don’t move,” he demanded. Her lips were parted in short, lusty breaths, her eyes open now and trained on him. If he couldn’t control his Beast, he would control her instead. Her used his thumbs to unfurl her fists and wrapped her fingers one by one around the rungs of the bedpost. “Hold this and don’t let go.”
The longing in her eyes was consent enough, even if her words seemed to have dried up in her throat. He felt hungry for her suddenly—mouth-watering, Beast-in-the-night hungry for her. He wanted to claim her, again and again, so everyone would know she belonged to him. He pulled his cock out of her and pressed his body flush against hers. There, he kissed down her throat before sinking his teeth into the still-healing mark on the side of her throat. Her body went stiff as a board and she cried out—hell with staying silent—pressing her nakedness hard against him. He needed virgin flesh and his lips trailed down, finding her breast. He bit in there, sucking a hard hickey into her skin. Her writhing whimpers grew louder when he batted his tongue against her sensitive nipple.