by Rose, Renee
Especially from a man who gives it the way I like it—wild and rough.
Titus grabs my hips and drags me down on the bed. He rolls my hips to the side and slaps my ass. “A supreme disappointment, huh?”
I smile up at him, heart picking up speed. “Supreme.”
He glowers at me but I notice his cock’s at full mast, bulging in his worn jeans. “You’re just hours out of the hospital, with a busted arm and a bruise the size of my fist on your head. Did you really think you were up for sex with me? I would break you in two, little girl.”
I let out a chuff, because it’s true. I’m still sore from the pounding he gave me before the accident. In many places. But I don’t back down. “I’m not hurt below the waist.” I reach between my legs and run my middle finger over the crotch of my yoga pants, stopping at my clit and rubbing.
He stiffens, eyes locked on my movements. “Babydoll, you’re asking for way more trouble than you can handle.”
“So you keep saying.”
He lunges.
Rips down my yoga pants and pushes my two knees to one side. “You don’t know when to let up, do you?” He slaps my ass four times, hard.
I yelp and squeal, attempting to wriggle, but he has me pinned. My body floods with endorphins—the pain of the spanks instantly morphing to pleasure. Heat building in my pelvis.
His breath is ragged, movements jerky. He slaps me twice more, then peels my knees open.
I moan an invitation.
He slides his hands under my buttocks and cups my smarting cheeks, squeezes and kneads them as he lowers his head between my legs.
For one tortuous moment, he just inhales, like he enjoys the scent of my musk. Then he licks into me.
I warble my approval—somewhere between a gasp and a cry. My pussy contracts, flames of desire burn brighter.
Titus’ beard tickles my inner thighs, chafes my labia. His tongue is magnificent. Big and strong and hot like the rest of him. And he knows how to use it. He teases and tortures me, circling my inner lips, flicking my clit. He stiffens his tongue and penetrates me with it, all the while using his nose to grind over my clit.
I writhe beneath him, coils of lust twisting tighter and tighter. Need winding up.
“I want you in me,” I tell him. I’m past the point of pretending I don’t know what I want in bed. Besides, I don’t have it in me to reciprocate with oral today and I want him satisfied, too.
He growls. His eyes are bright blue. He rises up on his knees, peels off his shirt and unbuckles that belt again. Damn, it’s sexy.
I sit up to help, but he flattens me on the bed with a hot kiss. “You gotta tell me if it hurts,” he breathes against my lips. “I’m not good at gentle.”
I lift my hips to meet his cock, run it through the tunnel of inner thighs and wet pussy. His erection grows even longer. “I’ll use the stoplights.” I nip his lower lip. When he backs away and frowns, I laugh. “Green means go. Yellow is caution. Red is stop. It’s a BDSM thing.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he mutters, but I’m beyond caring because he’s dragging the head of his cock through my juices.
“Green, green, green,” I chatter, undulating my hips to rub back.
He barks a curse and spears me with a single thrust.
I cry out when my head hits the headboard.
“Fuck.” He pulls out.
“No, no, no, no. Don’t stop, Titus. Please. I need this. It will help me heal.”
I would say anything right now to get him back inside me, but it probably will. I believe in orgasms as a method of improving all kinds of things, including world peace, sexual healing and saving the planet.
“You sure? I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I reach for his cock and pull him back between my legs.
“Fuck.” He drags me down the bed and shoves in again, this time pinning a fist above my shoulder to keep me from sliding up. He shakes his head as he rocks into me. “You are the strangest female I’ve ever met.”
I’m used to this.
Believe me, I’m used to it.
But it’s not exactly what I want to hear during coitus. Call me old-fashioned.
He must see it on my face, because he changes to short, upward thrusts and lowers his head to my breast. “Sorry, sunshine. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.” He bites my nipples over my shirt, then shoves the fabric up and swirls his tongue over them.
I forgive him because—yeah—it feels great. I tilt my pelvis to take him deeper, squeeze my muscles around his cock.
“Fates, woman, you learned that trick in yoga, too?”
“Uh huh. I can lift my leg above my head. Want to see?”
“Fuck yes. But next time.” His knuckles brush my cheek. “Don’t want to jar your arm.”
I grip his shoulder with my good hand to feel the steel of his muscles as he picks up speed.
“What color?” he rasps. His eyes are such a bright shade of blue. I see his spirit animal so clearly now, shimmering beneath the surface.
A beautiful silver wolf.
“Green. Still green. Don’t stall, Titus.”
He lets out a snarl. I almost don’t see his human face anymore, just the wolf glimmering in my third eye. This is some kind of wild mating dance to the wolf. He’s a predator. I’m the prey. The sex is the chase and he’s so close to catching me…
“Sunny…” He pounds into me with brutal force, his face twisted with unspent desire.
I realize he’s waiting for me. “I’m ready to come,” I gasp. “Give it to me, Titus.”
He roars and bucks even harder.
My eyes roll back. I hear the plaster of the wall busting under the force of the bed slamming against it.
Titus comes.
I follow, my body perfectly synchronized to his. My internal muscles squeeze and milk his cock.
The wolf bares its fangs.
I scream when his head descends to my neck, eyes gleaming, teeth unnaturally sharp.
“Titus!” I shove him away with both hands and pain shoots through my broken arm. “Red,” I yelp. “Ow, fuck.”
Titus rears back, all the way off the bed. His tongue touches his teeth and his eyes fly wide. “Shit.”
I’m shaking all over. “Wh-what was that?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly, turning his back as he gets dressed. “I’m sorry I got too rough.”
Too rough.
That wasn’t it.
It was more like the veils between dimensions blurred for a moment there. Something from the spirit world tried to cross over.
And bite me.
But that doesn’t make sense.
That doesn’t happen.
I just had a very realistic vision, that’s all.
“I-I saw your spirit animal,” I try to explain. “It was so real it scared me.”
Titus stabs his fingers through his hair. “Oh yeah? What animal?”
“Wolf. I’ve told you that before. A silver wolf with…” I look sharply at his eyes, but they aren’t the bright blue of the vision, they are slate gray, like usual.
“With what?” he looks wary.
“Nothing. Nevermind. Sorry. I’m just being… strange again.”
Like he needed more evidence of my whack-o-ness.
* * *
Titus
Fates. I can’t believe I just tried to mark Sunny.
A human.
That doesn’t happen. That shouldn’t happen. Something’s seriously off with my wolf if he’s picking a human to try to mate with. After all these years, after him never choosing to mark Barbara, the mate I chose.
It’s insanity.
The worst of it is Sunny somehow knew. I don’t know what she sensed, but she screamed right when I was about to sink my serum-coated teeth into her flesh to forever mark her with my scent.
A bite that could be fatal on a human.
Fuck.
And now she’s scared.
&n
bsp; And possibly hurt.
“You’re not strange,” I lie. My rational mind tells me not to get within ten feet of her, but the scent of confusion and pain fills the room, and there’s no way I can heed my own warning system.
She touches the goose egg on her forehead. “You know, I think I’m just hungry.” Her words come out shaky, but I don’t call her on the lie.
I’m not up for unpacking the whole shifter thing with her right now. Especially not the fact that I almost marked her.
Something is seriously off with my wolf.
“I’ll get you some food.”
“No.” She swings her legs off the bed and pulls on her clothing. “I can’t stand being cooped up so long. I’ll go with you.”
Of course. I knew she was flighty as hell. I can’t even keep the woman resting for half a day.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fine. A short outing. What are you in the mood for?” I seriously hope it’s not some kind of vegan shit.
“I could go for a big, juicy burger.”
Be still my heart. Maybe she isn’t so weird after all.
“Me, too, sunshine. Let’s go.”
Chapter 4
Sunny
Taos is one of those small towns where you always know someone anywhere you go. The diner is no different.
I know Rebecca, our server, from yoga and authentic movement classes. Her eyes widen when she sees me come in with Titus. Well, nearly everyone has to look at him when we come in. He is pretty attention-grabbing. The huge, truck-like frame, the leather jacket. The silver beard and rugged good looks. He’s beautiful, and they know he must be new in town because they would’ve remembered seeing him before.
She bustles over to our table. Only then does she peel her eyes off Titus and sees the bump on my head. “What happened to you?”
“Hit and run.” I grimace and hold up my casted arm.
She gasps. “Oh no! That’s horrible.” Her eyes dart to Titus again with a question in them.
“This is Titus, my son-in-law’s father. Thank goddess he was here when it happened. He’s taking good care of me.”
Rebecca beams at him. “That’s great. I’m glad he was here, too.”
We order burgers. Titus orders mine with a gluten-free bun—I’m so touched he remembered—and fries. When they come, Titus squirts a huge pile of ketchup on my plate first, then his own.
They are simple, tiny gestures, but sweet. I’m not used to having anyone try to take care of me. Part of me hates it—I don’t want to depend on anyone. I got hurt in my first marriage—badly—and I don’t ever want to be in that position again.
But I can’t deny the appeal.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a burger and fries kind of girl,” Titus says, stuffing several fries in his mouth at once.
“No?” I laugh. I guess when we hung out before, we didn’t do much eating out. I seem to recall we just ordered in a lot of pizzas and Chinese food. “Yes, I like meat.”
Titus growls at my smirk.
I stare at his plate, stunned to see he’s already eaten his first burger. I take a bite of my french fry. “So I thought you worked a security job, back in Wolf Ridge.”
“That’s right. I work night shifts at the brewery there.”
“So what assignment brings a security guard to Taos?”
He considers me, then shakes his head. “I can’t discuss it.”
I persist because it doesn’t make much sense. “Brewery business?”
“I’m following up on some criminal activity.”
“What kind?”
“What part of I can’t discuss it did you not get?”
I hold up my hands. “Okay, okay. Touchy. Secret brewery business, then.”
He rolls his eyes.
I wipe my lips with my napkin. “Do you think you could drive me out to my RV?”
He raises a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Because I don’t have the bus. Could you give me a ride to my place?”
He blinks at me for a few beats. “I rented that goddamn place so you’d stay put and rest. Are you seriously telling me your wanderlust has already kicked in? You can’t stay still for more than half a day?”
I sense so much judgment in his words, and I hate to admit how much it hurts. I look down at my food, suddenly not hungry.
“Seriously, what’s the rush?”
I snap my head back up. “I don’t get paid to lie around on your sofa, Titus. If I’m not making art or selling it, I don’t eat. That’s the reality of my situation.”
He shakes his head. “And who picked that situation?”
I throw down my napkin and scoot my chair back. “I didn’t ask for your help, Titus. I don’t need it. I also didn’t ask for your judgment of me or my lifestyle. Don’t worry about giving me a ride, I can find my own way home.” I dig in my purse for some cash and drop enough to cover both our meals on the table. I’m not about to let Titus do anything more for me.
“Now wait up.” He rises, too. “I’ll drive you. Just hold your horses.”
I hold up my hand. “No, really, Titus. I’m good. Thanks for everything.” I lean over to kiss his cheek to prove I’m not pissed—which I am. I just don’t want to be. I don’t want to care what this giant, manly monster of a man thinks of me.
I don’t want to fit into his rigid mold of how things should be. Or how they shouldn’t.
Yes, I’m unique. I’ve always been different. Even as a child, the other kids thought I was weird. I suppose that’s why I married so young. I was just so eager to be with someone I thought wanted and accepted me.
But my first marriage couldn’t have been more painful.
I walk out into the unfiltered sunshine of high-altitude living. Taos isn’t the kind of place you can grab an Uber, but if I walk around the plaza, I’ll eventually bump into someone I know who I can ask for a ride out to my RV.
Of course, then I’ll be stuck out there with no way of getting back into town if I need something. Maybe I didn’t think this through quite carefully enough when I made my request.
Maybe Titus was right.
Maybe I was running away again. From him.
From the vulnerability he evokes in me. Just look at how easy it was for him to hurt me and I wasn’t even giving over my heart!
No, I made the right choice. Distance is definitely the best option.
In desperate need of a mood lifter, I slip into Adele’s chocolate shop. The rich scent of cocoa rolls over me as the tall proprietress straightens from behind the counter.
“Hey, Sunny,” she calls out, her wide mouth breaking into a smile until she gets a good look at my banged up face. “Oh my God, what happened?”
“Car accident. Hit and run. I could really use a pick me up.” It’s true, although it’s not because of the car accident.
“Oh, I have the perfect thing for you, my friend. Taste this.” She slides a plate with three truffles across the counter. “My latest creation. Apricot sea salt truffle.”
I pop the little morsel in my mouth and groan. “Yes. This was exactly what I needed.” I close my eyes and savor the explosion of flavor in my mouth. “Exquisite. You truly have a gift, Adele.”
“Why does it look like your boyfriend is standing guard outside?”
“My boy—” I start to turn, but stop myself. “Oh. Titus is outside?”
Adele tucks an errant black curl behind her ear and gives me an assessing look. “Are you not into him? I kinda thought you guys had chemistry?”
“Oh we have chemistry all right. That’s sort of the problem.”
“How is that a problem?”
I lean my elbow on the counter and put my chin in it. “Makes it harder to keep my distance. Especially because the sex is so good.”
“Ah. So the sex is great but the personality isn’t there?”
I pop another truffle in my mouth. “I like his personality, too. I just… Well, I’m too much for him. Story of my like… I mean, life.”
Sympathy flickers over Adele’s expression before she hides it. “Never make yourself small for a man,” she says firmly. “You keep on living loud and proud, being who you are. The guy who’s man enough to let you be you will show up.”
My eyes smart, but I blink it away. “Yep,” I agree, because I’m only capable of speaking the one syllable without letting out a warble in my voice.
“As for this guy… if you need help shaking him—”
“Oh, no.” I wave a hand. “He would back off if I made it clear that’s what I wanted.” But it’s not what I want. That’s the problem. “I’m sure he’ll leave on his own soon enough.” The words taste sour. I select another truffle.
“When things end, you’ll still have your friends,” Adele murmurs. “We’ll all be ready to order a bottle of wine and commiserate.”
“Thank you, dear. Time heals all lies… I mean, wounds.” I stuff the third truffle into my mouth before I mix any more metaphors. “Ahem. What do I owe you?”
“Oh these are on the house.”
I smile, somewhat relieved because her truffles are damn expensive. As they should be—they’re the finest thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. “Thank you so much, darling. Well, I’d better get out there and see if I can’t lose my bodyguard.”
“Eh. Use him for the sex. You deserve it.”
I laugh. “Already have!” I sing out as I leave.
Titus is leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his massive chest and a first class scowl on his face.
I ignore him and sail past.
He gives a low growl, but doesn’t touch me, just follows a step behind.
I wind my way through the plaza, stopping to greet and chit chat with friends, knowing I’m driving Titus bonkers.
It’s his choice to make himself my babysitter. Eventually, I end up sitting down on a bench because I hit the end of the line, and I don’t have a plan yet for getting to my RV.
Titus looms over me, blocking the harsh angle of the sun. He sticks his hands in his pockets, which is a decidedly non-dominant pose. Apparently, he’s making an effort to appear conciliatory.
I look up.
