Winter Howl (Sanctuary) (17 page)

“How about you put down that knife?” he said quietly. “We have all night to play like that. But I don’t want to play right now.” He tightened his fingers in her hair until he was almost pulling at the roots—it was just on the good side of pain, and he pulled her up his body until she was poised with her lips above his, the knife still against his drawn testicles. Slowly, she ran the tip up the sensitive vein of his cock, and she almost whimpered from a wave of arousal when he closed his eyes tightly, his jaw clenched through his own wave. She drifted the knife’s tip from his cock and drew an invisible line up his stomach, his chest, along his throat. Grant strained to capture her lips, and she tossed the knife to the side to let him.

The second she heard it hit the comforter, he engulfed her in his arms and pulled her flush against him. He was even hotter with skin against skin, and all Renee wanted to do was eat him up as she kissed him, bit his neck, let every impulse have its way. She had never felt like this, unfettered and wild and as dangerous as the man beneath her. He groaned every time she lifted herself to her knees and rubbed his erection with her wet cunt, wanting him inside her more than anything, but not knowing how to begin. As for him, he was no less insistent than she was, except he seemed to know more about what he wanted from her. He held her as though he wanted her to melt into him. She pushed her breasts against his chest until he bit an exhilaratingly painful line down to one nipple and sucked softly, then too hard, pulling it with teeth that felt as if they could be sharp at any moment.

And it did hurt, it all hurt, but she didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop, felt her juices stick to the inside of her thigh as her cunt tightened around nothing. She dug her nails into his arms, the flesh of his back, tearing the surface with every minor tremor that shook her body. And throughout everything, that deep vibration from within him continued.

It was all messy, hard, unpractised, unchoreographed, hot, panting, secretive, and all she could think was that it was not enough.

“Inside,” she whispered into his mouth before he slid his tongue in, before he drank the word from her lips. She reached for the knife again, and at the first touch of the flat edge on his side, Grant’s eyes flew open, and he flipped them over so that she was underneath him, surrounded by his weight, his heat, the shadow of his body.

“Forcing me to take you at knifepoint,” Grant murmured. He clicked his tongue mockingly. “Now, now, you don’t need to convince me.”

“Don’t care how hard,” Renee said. “Please. Just…”

“I hope you’re not a virgin, love…” He parted her thighs until her knees were almost on either side of her chest, spreading her for him, exposing her far more than she felt comfortable with. But comfort was far from the front of her mind as he took his cock in his hand and covered her again to slide into her. It had been a while since she had penetrated herself with anything and the aching stretch was almost pleasant, like the first time running after a week of recovering from illness. He did not even let her adjust—she had not expected him to and welcomed the burn of it. He pulled back and slammed into her again, rolling his hips so that he rubbed her clit and something else on the inside, which made her bite his shoulder to hold back from crying out.

She had not known that sex could be like this. She’d had a taste of it with Britt, but Britt had stopped her. She had thought that the earlier encounter with Grant and her previous experience with toys would have prepared her. But it was so different than using one of her vibrators, even one of the more realistic ones. It was the difference between rubbing an ache in her neck and having someone do it for her, like getting someone to scratch the itch she just could not reach herself. She had never experienced it on such a scale, crashed with surge after surge of pleasure that tore her apart on the inside and banished her thinking mind entirely.

And as for Grant, Renee was not convinced that he’d ever used his thinking mind very much. He was rough and thorough, shaking the bed with every thrust. Although he was clearly ripping his own pleasure from her, he kept up an angle that must have been difficult for him, the one that rubbed against that place inside that made her tighten around him in a swirl of wetness. He clenched one hand around her waist and pressed the other into the bed as his mouth roamed greedily over her until she drank in every groan, every growl. He was being quiet for her. She wondered how demonstrative he would be when he did not have to be quiet. She dropped the knife again so that she could cling to him, bracing against every time he thrust in, imagining him taking her in the middle of the living room without any restraint at all.

Her orgasm began climbing before she even recognised its presence. But she latched her teeth on to his shoulder again, rocking her hips to help him help her reach its peak.

There,
she
thought.
There, right there. God… Grant, there…

She whimpered through the climax, and he drew it out as long as he could, his cock still rock hard within her. She could not believe that he’d lasted longer than she had when he had been aroused longer. But his eyes were wild and glowing as she came down from the orgasm, and he began to fuck her even harder through her oversensitivity. She grasped for the knife and brought it between them, effectively stilling him in his actions, but she could tell she was not going to hold him back for long. Every one of his muscles shook from the effort of not taking her, using her.

With her eyes fixed on his, she pushed him to the side until she was the one who was over him. He was still buried within her, and she adjusted herself so that she was comfortable again. His hips bucked, but she put the flat of the knife back against his stomach.

“If you’re going to kill me after fucking me, bitch, you’d better do it now,” he snarled, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

“
I’m
ready to play,” Renee said. “Sit up.” She lifted herself off him a little so that he could pull himself sitting. His expression was twisted with need and anger and frustration, but he did as he was told, a glitter of renewed interest in his eyes.

“There,” she murmured, and she began to rock, her arms around his neck and the knife glinting behind him. Slowly at first, drawing herself past the oversensitivity stage and into her own renewed interest. She rubbed her clit tantalisingly against his pubic hair and bone, squeezing herself around him in a deliberate attempt to make him look
that way
—his eyes rolling back, jaw tight, everything about him needing to take her but unable to do so. If he had really wanted to, he could have broken her wrist, held her down, and taken what he wanted. But he was not doing any of those things. He permitted her the power that she had over him when she could easily take his life with the smallest of incisions.

“Tease me any more,” he growled, “and I will not be responsible for anything I do, any noise I make to alert the others that you are riding me under threat of death, taunting me when I’ve brought you off twice today for nothing in return. And…I’m going to…have you in front of that…bitch…so that she…
Fuck
.”

All her inner muscles were tight as she began to lift herself up and bring herself down hard, truly riding him now with her breasts bouncing in front of him until he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked, raking short nails with the beginnings of claws down her stomach. She held his head closer as she took him faster and faster, not as violently as he had, but he was thrusting up into her and tasting her and groaning as his balls drew up. His orgasm almost unseated her, and they rolled over as he slammed once, twice, three, four times quickly into her cunt, coming in spurts of heat inside her.

He held himself above her after he’d finished, not slumping over her or crushing her, just staring down at her, all the hunger driven from his expression but the fire still there.

“If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it before now,” he murmured. “And if I had hurt you more than you wanted, you would have killed me. I don’t think you need that knife anymore.” He took her wrist lightly. He wanted to squeeze the bones of her wrist, she knew, but all he did was bring her arm down to the bed. “Give me the knife, Renee.”

“No,” she answered. She pushed herself to a sitting position, and he pulled out of her when she moved away. She crawled over and put the knife in the drawer of the night table. “If you take it from me, I’ll have Jake blow your brains out with his rifle. And he’s an excellent shot.”

“You don’t need to protect yourself from me,” he said, pulling her back beneath him. He rubbed his shoulder lightly, and his hand came away bloody from where her teeth had broken skin. He sucked his fingers into his mouth and cleaned them in the dirtiest way. Grant might have come, but Renee was worked up again. She wanted to taste his fingers as they came back out of his mouth without a trace of his blood. She could not believe that she had bitten him so hard.

“But you’re a dangerous man,” Renee said. “You told me yourself.”

“I am.” He lowered himself so that he covered her like a blanket, returning his attention to her neck, slowly working his way down. “But you don’t need to protect yourself from me.” His mouth made its way down her stomach, circling her navel before hovering above her clit. She bit her lip as he began to lick her again, drinking her arousal mixed with his ejaculate, until she was almost begging for him to take the knife from her possession and take her again, whenever and however he wanted. Since she did not have his shoulder to help muffle her cries, she had to resort to her hand again, and as he brought her to orgasm for the second time that night, she could not help the high moan that escaped.

He licked his way back up her body. When he reached her mouth, she muttered against his lips, “I’ll still have him shoot you.”

“That’s my girl,” he replied, rewarding her with a thorough kiss. “Now, I remember I said something about playing all night…”

Chapter Seven

She was not sure when she’d finally fallen asleep. Neither of them had lost energy after sex like Jake did. Grant had been amazingly voracious, intent upon enjoying every inch of her until he’d simply been unable to continue. And she’d seemed unable to stop herself now that she’d had a taste. It hadn’t been that Grant was better than Britt, but sex—sex like this—had been so new, and feeling normal had been new, and she had not wanted it to stop. It had been exhaustion that did her in, not boredom.

She had been so lost in the present that night that everything crashed down on her in the morning.

At first she burrowed closer to the furnace that was Grant’s body. They had barely made it under the covers, but they weren’t really needed when he was the best kind of heater. Once Renee realised that the heat came from Grant, she opened her eyes. And once she realised what she had done the night before, she jerked out of his enveloping arms and sat straight up. Grant did not move, but when she looked back, he was watching her.

Sunlight was coming through the window above her bed, enough for her to see that she would not be able to sneak out of the room without the others seeing her. Or smelling him on her.

She began frantically trying to create an alibi, but her mind came up blank. There was not one single excuse she could come up with that would explain her being out all night, smelling less like herself and smelling like sex, to boot.

But excuses could be made later. Since no one had burst through the door looking for her, Renee assumed that her friends were not too worried about where she was. They probably assumed that she had decided on a whim to sleep with the dogs, or had fallen asleep at her computer. Leslie would know better, but he probably would not be asking the questions.

Right now, she needed to clean up. There was the tiny en suite bathroom that she had used as a kid. She found cheap but unopened shower gel under the sink. As she turned the water on hot, she knew that she could wash and wash and still be unable to get rid of his scent from her clothes. Then again, she had not had them on for very long. She would deal with that if it became a problem.

“So keen to leave me, love?” Grant asked. He leaned against the door frame as she whirled around. The closest towel was pink and flowery, and for some reason, that was the only reason she did not reach for it to cover her. He might have seen her naked—he was largely responsible for that state—but it was another thing entirely for him to see her naked like this. The magic spell had ended, and she wanted layers between his eyes and her skin.

“I need to get you off of me,” she said. She tested the water with her hand before pulling back the curtain and stepping into the spray.

He leaned into the shower, and Renee was conscious of the fact there was nowhere to go in that little stall.

“Even if you were able to wash me from you, you do realise that you are all over me,” Grant murmured. He pushed her wet hair from her face and held it in his hand like a rope. “And I am not so quick to shed that scent from my skin.”

“And what would you say?” Renee asked. She wanted to back into the corner, but he would follow her into it, and she would be more trapped than she already was. Even now, though the impulsiveness of the night was gone, she saw his mouth and wanted it on her. They both had morning breath and they both smelt of their cum, but she felt her cunt twitch at the thought of rolling over the bed sheets wet as she was, clinging to his body with the water slicking his way over her, into her.

She did not know whether she would be able to stop.