Slip of Fate (Werelock Evolution Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: Slip of Fate (Werelock Evolution Book 1)
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The gasp had a prim old-lady sound to it, too, that I’d never before imagined might come out of me. In fact, it’d sounded frightfully reminiscent of just the sort of shocked gasp of distress my late Great-Aunt Felicia might’ve emitted upon perusing the Sunday circular and noting the rising price of canned peaches—or some such similarly egregious, perceived crime against her.

“Milena!” Remy’s plaintive cry assailed my ears as he turned to me, eliminating any possible remaining doubt as to the male participant in this triple X-rated garden orgy. He halted mid-thrust and withdrew from the girl on her hands and knees, causing her to jerk and whine in muffled protest into the twat in which her face was buried.

Issuing instruction to the girls to finish each other off without him, Remy bounded over to me—his wet, fully erect, condom-encased prick leading the way.

Unwittingly, I channeled my Great-Aunt Felicia a second time.
The price of canned peaches was skyrocketing fast!

Receiving no clear directive from my hapless brain, my eyes hadn’t a clue where to look. Too embarrassed to look him in the face, my eyes naturally gravitated to the nearest, largest moving object that was coming toward me and refused to look away.

“Milena, honey, how are you? Are you okay? We’ve all been so worried!”

Before I could find the wherewithal to tear my eyes from his huge penis that was headed like a battering ram straight at me, much less muster the ability to form syllables, a symphony of euphoric shrieks and moans of orgasm broke out from the trio of girls writhing in the grass.

“Omigod!
Omigod!”
I erupted, spinning around and colliding with Alex’s broad chest as he caught me in a protective embrace.

“What’s this?” Alex exclaimed with what was obviously mock surprise. “Remy, is this what you do in my gardens?” he demanded—while struggling to contain his mirth.

“Asshole!” Remy swore at his younger brother. “The fuck? What are you, twelve? Milena, I’m so sorry.”

Remy’s apology sounded sincere. But I’d scrunched my eyes tightly shut behind my hands as I stood stiff as a board, pressed up against Alex within the confines of his arms, and I was too focused on trying to breathe while blocking out the sounds and scents of the girls’ tapering climaxes to be able to respond.

“Serious dick move, Alex!” Remy reproved.

“She wanted to thank her personal hero, Remy, for his thoughtfulness with her luggage,” Alex justified, his tone glib. “So I brought her by to thank you when I heard you here with your friends. Rather magnanimous of me, I think.”

“How could you do this to her?”

Alex snorted. “You mean how could I do this to
you?”

“No, I mean Milena! You’ve just freaked the hell out of the poor girl for no reason other than to satisfy your own petty jealousy. Is your ego that fragile,
Alpha?”

“Go jerk yourself off,” Alex dismissed. “You’re the one who traumatized her, charging at her with your wet boner.”

I heard Remy curse under his breath at Alex’s revelation, as if he hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d in fact done just that. “Thy, my angel,” he called out, “bring me my shorts, please?”

I heard movement in the short grass behind me, followed by a rustling of fabric, and then the overwhelming scent of feminine arousal was swiftly coming closer. I moved my hands from my eyes to cover my nose and mouth. The girls smelled human, I noted. The fact I could so readily make distinctions like that now amid all the other chaos did little to calm my anxiety.

“Thank you, Thy.”

“Is she going to stay and play with us?” a female voice inquired. She spoke perfect English, but her voice was accented.

“No, sweetie,” Remy replied, “Milena’s not quite comfortable with our manner of play.” I heard more rustling of fabric and the sound of a zipper before he added, “And our Alpha doesn’t share very well.”

“But he shared
Amy,”
Thy pointed out, “just today … or yesterday, was it?”

I felt Alex stiffen against me. I stopped breathing. I fully opened my eyes for the first time and stared blankly at his nipple.

“When was it, Amy?” Thy questioned. Presumably, to one of the other two girls from the ménage.

I needed to breathe. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to smell
her
. I had a sneaky suspicion I’d recognize the scent of
parfum trash
.

Alex and Remy exchanged rapid, irate words in Portuguese.
Always a sure sign a cover-up was in the works.

I told myself it didn’t matter. That I couldn’t care less whom Alex had fucked in the last twenty-four hours. Yet, I still had to see her.

I knew without a doubt I needed to commit her visage to memory so that I could access it the next time Alex wore a silly hat and juggled kitchen utensils; the next time he made doleful, wounded eyes at me and attempted to pull on my idiot heartstrings. I wanted to remember her face whenever he tried to manipulate me into thinking he actually cared one iota about anyone but himself.

I was so damn gullible I’d allowed him to let me feel guilty for making him worry when I was in a coma.
I’d even apologized!
And apparently whilst I’d been straddling the line between life and afterlife he’d been so worried he’d busied his cock in a girl named Amy.

But what really galled me was the knowledge I had no rational reason whatsoever to be surprised by this turn of events given the facts of the situation.
He was a bad guy
. Bad guys did this sort of thing. This was par for the bad guy course. I had only myself to blame for being stupid enough to anticipate anything different.

I spun around as fast as I could in Alex’s arms. But he was still faster, spinning with me and blocking my view of the girls with his massive frame.

“C’mon, baby, we’re done here,” he asserted with authority, backing me up and then turning me away from the garden scene with an insistent hand between my shoulder blades.

I wanted so badly to break my fist against his jaw then, to harangue the life out of him for daring to call me
baby
. But I chose another tactic. I let him guide me forward a few more paces, then I abruptly dropped to my knees and half crawled, half squat-ran as fast as I possibly could back in the direction of the girls.

I barely caught a glimpse of a shirtless Remy and three naked, dark-haired beauties before Alex had hooked his arm about my waist and plucked me up off the ground as easily as a child, swinging me around and marching away from the crime scene with me tucked under his arm, kicking and screaming my head off.

“Let me go! I wanna meet Remy’s friends!”

He ignored my cries of protest and kept walking, increasing the length of his strides while shouting an order back at Remy that he was not to follow us.

“I wanna meet
Amy
!”
I bellowed in indignation like some deranged lunatic, thrashing and flailing about. “Let me see her! I know you fucked her, so you can just stop treating me like I’m an idiot.”

He swung me upright and deposited me onto my feet. Before I’d fully reclaimed my equilibrium, my back was up against a wrought iron fence in another little garden area and Alex’s heated body was towering over me, his hands gripping the fence on either side, caging me in.

As I smoothed my disheveled hair from my eyes and glowered up into his dark orbs, I found his expression difficult to decipher, prompting a moment of slight panic as a shiver of apprehension danced up my spine. I tried to imagine it was merely a reaction to the cold iron fence digging into my back through my thin henley.

Though his features were composed, his chest heaved up and down. He didn’t exactly appear angry, more
excited
. He continued to stare me down as his tongue licked casually across his bottom lip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He looked … hungry.

Crap.

“Of course I fucked her,” he admitted, his features as emotionless as his tone. “I fucked that girl six ways to Sunday and back again. Took her in every orifice she offered.” I felt my stomach turn over in disgust at his vulgar explication. “Compelled her only once at her own request when she was having trouble swallowing me past her gag reflex and asked if I could coax her through it the way Remy had before.”

He arched a challenging brow. “Feel better now?”

I nodded absently, though I felt positively awful. Nauseous. Confused.
Horrified
.

Fear became infused with my cocktail of emotions when a moment later Alex growled and hoisted me up by the backs of my thighs, moving his hips squarely between my spread limbs and pressing into me against the unforgiving fence.

The shocking scent of my own arousal assaulted my sensitive olfactory. It was beyond my comprehension how lust had ever managed to enter the melee. Yet it had. Further evidencing just how sick in the head I was becoming.

“I warned you not to lie to me,” he grated in my ear. “I asked if you felt better?”

When I didn’t respond, too dumbstruck to form syllables, he shifted me and rolled his groin into my center. And I felt him—through the seam of my jeans—large, long, and hard, mashing against the throbbing heartbeat at my cleft. Faintly, I heard myself panting out the Lord’s name over and over above the pounding in my ears.

“Answer me,” he commanded, his strong fingers sliding up the backs of my thighs to squeeze the flesh of my ass as he ground himself into me once more. “Does it make you feel better knowing I fucked Remy’s little friend senseless?”


No,”
I groaned, torn between so many warring emotions and sensations. “Ah … God, no …”

“Didn’t think so. Know why? Because you’re jealous,” he assessed, not waiting for me to answer. “You’re behaving like a jealous girlfriend who thinks she has an exclusive claim on me.”

I shook my head out.
Jealous?

Me?

“You are,” he said with a mordant chuckle, pulling back to kiss my frowning forehead. “And you’ve no need to be jealous,” he said, desirous eyes gobbling me whole. “All you have to do is ask, and I will gladly look after you. Much,
much
more thoroughly than I did her.”

His eyes roved my features with the greedy intensity of a starving man grappling with his self-restraint. “Or any other female ever before for that matter.”

I wasn’t sure how I managed to speak. “I will
never,”
I croaked
,
“ask you for any such thing.”

He chortled again, the sound replete with bitterness and tension. “Oh, but you will, princess,” he rasped, leaning in to nuzzle my ear. “I know it. And you know it.” He paused, letting the truth of his words settle within me as his hot breath warmed my neck. “Deep in your bones you know you’re scarcely a breath away from begging me for that release your body is craving so desperately right now.”

When I shook my head in denial, he growled. His hips rolled into me again, slower—
harder,
at the same time squeezing my backside in his grasp as he rocked me up and down his hard length. I panted for air as my body responded brilliantly to his assault, my insides fluttering to life, my whole being vibrating with need and anticipation.

The scent of my arousal was overpowering. My underwear was saturated with the evidence of my desire as the torturous build-up of pressure within me escalated rapidly in its ascension toward release.

“Fuck.
Tell me to stop this.
Please?”
he begged, even as he nibbled my earlobe and continued to grind into me. “Please ask me to stop you, baby?” he beseeched in a voice that sounded frightfully helpless … wounded even. “Because I can’t—I can’t stop …”

I felt dangerously close to coming apart in screaming orgasm against him as the energy of his own arousal overwhelmed me.

I whimpered and moaned in the back of my throat, unable or unwilling to muster the wherewithal to tell him to stop. But then he growled in anger and lifted his mouth from my ear, breaking the spell when he barked out an annoyed, “
What?

I was confused, as well as painfully frustrated, until I heard an unseen male clearing his throat on the other side of Alex’s shoulders. My head rolled back to fall heavily against the fence, relief and despair flooding me. My lips parted as I tried in vain to rein in my erratic breathing.

“I apologize for the interruption, my Alpha.” The male voice sounded American. “But we have a situation in Salvador, sir.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Talk to Kai,” Alex snapped, his black eyes refusing to break focus from my flushed face.

“Yes, well … I did try to, my Alpha,” the man replied cautiously, “but he’s in the research lab and refuses to be disturbed. Said he had an emergency situation of his own.”

“Then go to Alcaeus,” Alex directed in irritation. “I’m
busy
, Kaleb.”

“Yes, my Alpha.”

I heard the man’s retreating footsteps, and I knew somehow a guardian angel somewhere had offered me a Hail Mary pass with this timely interruption—a moment’s respite to gather my wits before I did something regrettable. I’d be a fool not to take it.

“Stop,”
I told Alex when his captivated dark irises floated closer to mine. “I want you to stop. I don’t want this. And I won’t … and you can’t … you can’t force me. You said you’d never hurt me like that.”

“Forcing?” His eyes blazed with affront. “Those are
your
thigh muscles rhythmically gripping me. And you have full control over your ankles locked around my waist,” he charged to my mounting embarrassment.

“I may have started it, but those are
your
heels digging into my backside in an attempt to draw me closer,” he appraised. His lips dipped to my ear. “Shall I be a gentleman and not point out the fact you’ve been arching your pelvis into me and not so covertly grinding against my erection for the last minute and a half?”

Dear God, he was right!
I took a moment to take stock of myself and realized everything he’d said was true. What’s more, I’d been clinging to him, my nails digging ruthlessly into his shoulders. In my haze of lust it hadn’t registered before that he’d begged me to ask him to stop
me
. Me!

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