Heart So Hollow (Dire Wolves Book 1), page 10
When I take another step back, my ass hits the edge of the dresser, “Why did you take me to meet your entire family?” I ask as he comes closer.
A wicked grin creeps across Bowen’s face, “I like to try things on for size before I decide to keep them,” he reaches up and hooks the hem of my t-shirt in his fingers, dragging it up over my head and tossing my hair over one shoulder.
“Do I fit?” I ask, peering up at him.
Bowen plants his hands on the dresser on either side of me, “You fit in with them as soon as you said hello,” then he leans in close, “and I’ve already decided I’m not leaving this room until you fit me. Or do I need to talk sweet to you some more?”
My core clenches, his voice is so intoxicating. It’s irresistibly sweet until it’s too late, and before you know it, you’re totally wrecked.
I reach up and take his chin in the crook of my thumb, “What if I didn’t want you to be sweet to begin with?”
I feel him smile just before his mouth consumes mine, and he tastes just as good as I thought he would. Pressing my hips into the dresser, he tilts my head back, running his mouth over my throat as he unsnaps my grey lace bra. He lets it fall from my arms and pulls me against him, drawing a split-second moan from me as soon as I feel the warmth of his chest against my skin.
“Then you sound like my kind of girl,” Bowen grins before suddenly grabbing my hips and spinning me around to face the mirror.
Before I can pitch forward, he wraps one arm around my torso and slides his other hand over my shorts and down the crease of my hip. I sink back against his chest, dopamine flooding my brain while he leers at my reflection. He presses his cheek against my temple and hooks his thumb in the waistband of my shorts, slowly pulling them down past my hips. As soon as they hit the floor, he grabs the back of my thigh and hikes my knee onto the top of the dresser.
Bowen gazes at my reflection, his hand tracing the same path over my chest and stomach as his eyes. But as soon as I feel his hand come to a stop over my ribcage, I sober and my jaw tightens, knowing exactly what’s drawing his gaze. He gently runs his middle finger over a thin, six-inch scar that runs arrow straight horizontally beneath my left breast.
“What happened to you, baby girl?” he murmurs in my ear.
I silently cringe at his words before telling him what I’ve told everyone else, what I’ve tried to trick myself into believing after repeating it long enough.
“I cut myself on a nail in a fence.”
It’s plausible, at least enough to placate anyone who asks. And it seems to satisfy Bowen.
My breath catches as he leaves my scar and slides his hand down my stomach and between my legs. All I can look at are his black eyes burning a hole in my reflection.
“What are you smiling at,” he smirks when he feels how wet I am, “this goddamn mess you’re making?” That thick drawl of his could lay me out on its own.
My breaths get heavier, giving way to a moan as he runs his fingers back and forth over my slick skin. I feel drunk, every word hitting me like a double shot as I roll my hips against his hand. I’m losing my damn mind with each passing second, feeling my own cum drip down my thigh as he starts circling my clit.
“Faster…” I whimper as I writhe against him.
I can barely see straight. My nails dig into Bowen’s arm clamped so tight around my torso that I can barely breathe. But the tighter he holds me, the more he becomes the drug I want at all costs. That feeling—the one I’ve been trying to suppress—starts clawing its way out; I want to fight against him, but I hope he never lets me go.
“You like that, baby girl?” he murmurs in my ear as the orgasm starts to build.
I draw in a shaky breath and my body tenses, but then, without warning, he stills his hand and lets it fall away from me. My eyes fly open and I see him smiling back at my bewildered reflection, running his tongue along the back of his teeth with amusement.
After a few moments, he leans down, his lips brushing my ear, “Then ask for it nicely,” he whispers.
I should be outraged, but at that moment, Bowen could’ve asked me to go drain the lake by hand and I’d have run off to find a bucket. Instead, I slide my leg off the dresser and slowly turn around. I give him a gentle push in the chest and step around him, my bare feet moving silently across the thin carpet. I crawl onto the bed and turn around, kneeling at the edge, then motion for him to come closer with a curl of my finger.
As soon as Bowen gets close enough, I reach out and hook my fingers over the waist of his jeans, pulling him to me. Suppressing a smile, I start unbuckling his belt. I’m going to find out what he has tattooed where no one can see…
When I pop the button and the zipper on his jeans free, he reaches up with both hands and runs his fingers up my neck and into my hair. I hesitate, curling at the feel of his fingertips on my scalp as he combs his fingers over the base of my skull. Letting out a breath, my fingers hook over both his jeans and boxer briefs, tugging them down over his hips in one impatient motion.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Below Bowen’s navel is an impressively realistic tattoo of three snarling dog heads that fill the space between the V of his hips. The swirling black and grey ink framing them stretch across his lower abdomen and curl up over his hips. I recognize it immediately as Cerberus, the three-headed dog from Greek mythology who guards the underworld. Shadows of black and grey undulate across his pelvis, detailing each dog’s unique face and coalescing into one set of shoulders and front legs whose claws extend toward each of his thighs.
As if this isn’t enough, Bowen’s tattoo isn’t the only impressive thing drawing my attention to his lower body. My hand slides up his thigh to fist the base of his cock, hard and at attention. I begin stroking him up and down, still marveling at his tattoo. I don’t even care if he sees me gawking at him.
He rolls his head across his shoulders with a low groan, sending a heatwave through my stomach and making my entire groin ache. The things I’d do for him right now are profane. And I think he knows it.
“Bowen?” I slowly stroke his cock at my shoulder, rolling my head with the movement of his hands.
He glances down at me, “Yeah, baby?”
I run my tongue up the underside of his shaft, “Will you make me come now,” I close my mouth over his tip and slide his cock over my tongue to the back of my throat, his hand clenching my hair tighter the further I go. Slowly, I slide him back out and continue stroking him at my shoulder, “Please?”
Bowen tips my head back, continuing to knead my scalp and weave my hair in and out of his fingers, “Lay down and spread your legs for me.”
Finally...
With a sigh, I sink down onto the bed and let my knees fall open to show him the dripping mess he’s created. His mouth opens slightly and his chest heaves as he kneels down onto the mattress in front of me, lodging his knees against my thighs. Sitting back on his heels, he gazes down at me, scanning my entire body until his eyes find their way back to mine.
Then Bowen reaches down and starts to slowly stroke his cock from base to tip, “Touch yourself,” he commands.
“What—” A chill runs down my spine all the way to my tailbone, making my torso tighten with excitement.
“Show me how you want me to make you come,” he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, “get me ready to fuck the hell out of that pretty little pussy.”
I could melt into the bed right now, a pile of useless limbs dumbstruck by his energy alone. I’ll do anything to satisfy that hungry look in his eyes.
Suddenly, Bowen drops down, planting one hand next to my shoulder and seizing me under the jaw with the other, “And don’t you dare make yourself come.”
I should probably be freaked out, but I’m not. Because he feels…familiar.
His eyes follow my hand as it travels down the inside of my thigh. He gently releases my head, straightening back up as I push one finger into my pussy, coating it before sliding it back up to my clit to rub circles over my glistening skin.
“Is this what you do,” I breathe, watching him fist his cock again, “find strange girls to run around the woods with and then sneak back to their rooms?”
“I do like the woods…” Bowen doesn’t take his eyes off my hand, “but I don’t need to sneak anywhere,” he glances up, flashing me a smile, “that’s why I took you home to show everyone my new fetish.”
The pulse in my core gets stronger the longer he watches me, pushing me closer to the edge. But I feel my muscles tense and stop right before the rush hits me, just like he wants. Bowen mouths expletives I can’t hear, his shoulder muscles pulsing as he slowly works his cock, my movements making him harder and harder.
“How often do you do that—” my skin is so wet I can barely feel the friction anymore, “find a new fetish?”
Bowen gives a shake of his head, “Almost never,” he murmurs as he strokes hard and slow, his breaths deep and steady.
Maybe he’s a liar, but it doesn’t matter right now. I can’t focus on anything else except the tension building. Finally, it’s too much and my hand stills again, letting the rush fade away in frustration.
Bowen caresses the inside of my thigh, “One more time, baby girl,” he whispers salaciously.
“Fuck, Bowen,” I whimper, dragging my arm across my face, “please...”
“You have good manners for such a dirty whore,” he smirks.
With a smile wicked as sin, he watches me bring myself to the edge again. My body contracts and my hips roll in waves as I let my hand fall to the side, letting the rush dissipate. The energy radiates down my legs as I toss my head from side to side, languishing in an excruciating, half-conscious state.
Bowen leans off the bed and grabs his jeans to dig something out of the pocket. He straightens back up and tears a condom wrapper open with his teeth, blowing the shred of plastic out of his mouth. Seconds later, the mattress sinks down and I finally feel his body against mine.
Combing his fingers up the back of my hair again, he tilts my head so he can taste every inch of my throat. I wrap one leg around his waist, pulling him closer, the weight of him sending my heart into palpitations. He feels so damn good, I want to feel every part of him, but I’ll never get close enough.
“I could watch you all night,” Bowen murmurs, his voice thick as honey, “but now that you’re done being my whore, you get to be my queen.” He raises up on his knees again with a curt nod, “Turn over.”
Half-crazed, I roll onto my stomach as he reaches over me to grab one of the overstuffed white pillows from the headboard, “Up for me, baby girl,” Bowen gently tugs my hip until I lift up and he slides the pillow underneath me.
Kneeling behind me, Bowen pushes my knees apart with his, spreading them as far as they’ll go. I knead the bedspread impatiently, the rest of my body fidgeting uncontrollably the more he touches me.
“You really like being on your knees for me, don’t you?”
“I’ll live on my knees,” I press my ass against his stomach, “if you keep being this sweet.”
He slides his cock between my thighs and teases my throbbing pussy, “Sweet, huh?”
I hear a jingle and, suddenly, a crack echoes through the room, followed by a stinging pain that radiates across my ass like fire. I pitch forward, letting out a shrill scream into the mattress, but Bowen grabs my hips before I collapse onto my side.
“You don’t want sweet,” Bowen sneers, tossing his belt onto the mattress next to my head, “you want to be owned and used.”
I claw at the sheets, gasping through the pain. My ass is still on fire, but I can finally catch my breath. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m not the only fetish in this room. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I’ve just found the feeling I thought I lost forever—and it’s him.
After exhaling a long, drawn-out moan, an airy giggle escapes my lips.
“Are you laughing?” Bowen’s tone hitches in amusement.
“That was so good,” I croon, my voice half muffled by the mattress.
“Brett,” Bowen runs his hands up and down the curve of my waist, “I’ll gladly destroy you and fuck you back together as many times as you want—whether you ask me or I decide you deserve it makes no difference.”
“Please,” I plead with him through gasps and moans, “please just put your cock inside me…” I have zero shame, I’ll beg him for this all night, I don’t care.
He rests his tip against my entrance and slowly rocks back and forth, toying with me as I push against him.
“You’re such a polite girl,” he grips my hips tighter, holding me still, “and that’s the difference between you and me—I don’t ask, I just take what’s mine.”
At the last word, he slams his cock into me with such force that I let out a yelp, clenching the sheets in my fists as I go rigid. He slowly pulls out before thrusting back in even harder, drawing another shriek from me. But then he slows his movements, finding the perfect rhythm as he rolls his hips against my ass, stretching and filling me completely.
Bowen slides his hand underneath me, searching for the most sensitive spot. When he finds it, my voice cracks as I’m bombarded with the euphoria. My hips move faster, grinding harder against his hand as the orgasm builds deep in my core.
“Goddamn, baby girl,” he groans, staying deep inside me, “you’re the fucking tightest I’ve ever had.”
Moments later, when the orgasm rips through me, it’s so intense that I throw my hips back, a chaotic mixture of screams and gasps bursting from my throat. My body convulses and I pound my ass against him as I contract around his cock.
“Oh…my…ggg…Bowen!” My screams turn to desperate moans as I slow, riding out the waves made more intense by edging myself for so long.
Sliding out of me, Bowen flips me over and throws my legs open, my thighs glistening with my own cum. He hooks one elbow under my knee and flashes a smile as he lifts it to my shoulder, “I like looking at my girl when she makes me come.”
I barely inhale a breath before he slams his cock back into me, sending shockwaves up through my belly. He gazes down at me hungrily, enjoying the wet sounds as he thrusts. Feeling a new orgasm building in the pit of my stomach, I reach down with one hand and press my fingers against my clit, moving in circles, frantically trying to draw another out.
Bowen’s mouth stretches into a feral grin, “You’re such a fucking whore.” I grin back at him, wanting him to keep talking, keep saying every vile thing that comes to mind. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” he groans, “show me how much you want it…needy little bitch.”
“Bowen…” I pant, quickening my pace, “I’m gonna—”
He lets my leg fall and rips my hand away from my legs, replacing it with his. Holding my wrists above me, he works my clit as the orgasm rips through me, bucking my chest like I just took a shotgun blast. I cry out and roll my hips with Bowen’s, squeezing his waist between my thighs while every one of my muscles feels like they’re seizing. I expect the waves to fade and my body to settle into the euphoria of the aftershocks while he finishes, but when I try to lower my wrists, he only squeezes them tighter.
He quickens his pace and begins rubbing my clit harder and faster, “I thought you liked pain,” he murmurs insidiously.
Overstimulated and short-circuited, the pleasure turns to pain radiating from my clit down my legs and into my core. I pull against Bowen’s hands, trying to free my arms as my breaths turn to panicked whines. I open my mouth, trying to find words that don’t exist.
“You look awful pretty down there,” Bowen taunts, “squirming and clutching on my cock.”
Tears pool in the corners of my eyes and my vision blurs, turning the dim room fuzzy. I convulse beneath him, trying to twist my torso, but his knees spread my legs too far apart to gain any purchase. Any movement I make is nothing but a spasm, dulled beneath his vise grip.
Bowen leans down, his hair brushing my eyebrows while he hovers over my face. His voice reverberates against my chest, cutting through my whimpers, “Let me hear you beg.”
I let out another cry, my voice shaking and muted by gasps. The tears roll down my temples as I thrash beneath him, “Stop…please…” I grind out, barely intelligible.
He starts pumping harder and faster, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come so hard,” he groans, biting his bottom lip while he watches my breasts bounce sharply with each thrust of his cock.
I squeeze my eyes shut in agony and desperately fight against him. He’s agonizing and all-consuming, but I love how he’s tearing me apart at the seams. Finally, he relents and brings his hand up, eclipsing my throat as he grips my jaw.
“Now tell me,” Bowen smirks as his hips smack against me, “who do you belong to now?”
I finally catch my breath for a split-second, “You…” I cry out in a broken voice, the word tumbling out without so much as a thought.
Still pressing my wrists into the mattress with all his weight, he throws his head back and slams his cock deep inside me as he comes. My body bucks against him as he buries every inch, ready to split in two as the shockwaves ripple through my core. As soon as Bowen releases my wrists, I throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him while he consumes my mouth and my heart begins to melt through my ribcage.
Soon, his hips slow to long, smooth rocks that lull me like waves on a beach. His chest and forehead glisten with sweat, his hair brushing saltwater streaks across my forehead.
Bowen’s deep voice turns soft and gentle, “You OK, baby girl?” he asks as he brushes his thumbs along the corners of my eyes, wiping away the tracks of tears.
I nod and let out an exhausted sigh, basking in satisfaction. I don’t want the blissful torture to end. I don’t want any of it to end.
Bowen shifts his hips and pulls out, making me wince in pain, “Can’t promise you’ll get used to that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of my face with the back of his hand.
I run my fingers up his arm and squeeze his wrist, “Small price to pay, I guess.”
“Figured I’d go easy on you,” he smirks.
“Easy?” I scoff.
