by Callie Rose
Whether he means to or not, Trystan brings out a strength in me none of the other men do. Even Dare doesn’t quite manage to access that part of me, even when he’s being cold and distant and I want to throttle him.
While Archer and Ridge are usually gentle with me, careful of my old wounds and fragile emotions, Trystan’s unrelenting confidence and perfectionism pushes me outside my comfort zone. Dare is forceful in a different way, and maybe it’s because I know his emotions are driven by the pain he carries deep inside him that I cut him a little slack.
Trystan’s just a cocky, confident asshole sometimes. A man who thinks he knows better than everyone.
But maybe… maybe I need him to challenge me the way he does.
I call on that strength now—the strength he brings out in me.
“Trystan, I care about you,” I tell him, my voice still hard. “So much. I know what a good man you are. How much you care about your pack, and how loyal you are to the people you love. But every single day, I watch you push people away. I see you hold them at arm’s length because they’re not perfect, because their choices don’t match what you would do. You’re more closed off than any of the men sleeping in this house. You can never see a side to things that isn’t your own.”
His nostrils flare. He looks almost like I’ve slapped him, and I wonder if anyone has ever called him out like this.
My heart is beating so hard that it feels like it’s rattling my entire rib cage. Adrenaline pours through my veins as if my body is primed for an actual fight. Trystan and I face off against each other silently, our faces just inches apart. Tension hovers between us like a taut string pulled to its limit.
I’m angry.
He’s angry.
We’re both waiting for the other to back down, but we both know that will never happen.
Suddenly, that tension snaps.
I don’t know who moves first, him or me. But suddenly, I’m in his arms, his mouth on mine, his hands gripping me tightly as he consumes me with his kiss.
18
Sable
I don’t know quite how this happened.
One minute, Trystan and I were standing practically nose-to-nose, shouting at each other… and now we’re kissing like we might die if we stop.
It’s like all the emotions that were rising up inside me suddenly crystalized into a single feeling.
Desire.
His lips are warm and firm against mine as he kisses me feverishly, driving all the breath from my lungs. His tongue strokes against mine, hungry and demanding, and his hands are all over my body. We stumble across the small kitchen, tripping and weaving from side to side as we go. I have a vague notion that I want to get to the bedroom, and I think we’re moving in that direction. But then my back hits the wall in the little hallway that leads toward the bedroom, and I forget all about where we were going.
Trystan’s body pins me, his lips still devouring mine as his hands slide up under my shirt, meeting bare skin. Fireworks explode in my nerve-endings as he reaches higher, massaging my breasts through my bra, making my nipples pebble against his palm.
My emotions are still high, anger mixing with stark need, and it makes me bolder than I would normally be. Up until now, I’ve pretty much let the men take the lead in all of our sexual encounters, but something about coming off that fight with Trystan has given me courage I didn’t know I had.
He said I don’t let him steamroll me. And he’s right.
I never really have, and I don’t think I ever will. Especially because I can see the man he is underneath all his confidence and bluster. He’s a good man, a sweet man. Dedicated and hardworking, always expecting the best from others because he accepts nothing less than that from himself.
And right now, I want to tell him what to do.
“Take off my shirt,” I demand, because it’s the easiest thing to start with. My voice is raspy with desire but firm and strong, and at the sound of it, Trystan draws back, looking down at me with blazing eyes.
A slow smile spreads across his face. Our earlier argument is still hovering over us, and instead of feeling like a separate event, this feels like a continuation of it. Like we’re both trying to prove a point to each other.
Trystan takes a step back and drops his hands to the hem of my shirt. With a deliberate movement, he draws it up over my head, and I raise my arms to help him. My nipples, already hard from his touch, tighten even more, and my breasts feel full and heavy as his gaze drops to my chest.
“My bra,” I say evenly, breathing hard. “Take it off.”
Now Trystan’s smile is positively sinful. Heat and pride reflect in his eyes as he tugs the straps down my arms and reaches behind me with one hand to unclasp the band. The pride is for me, I realize with a little flare of arousal. Trystan might be set in his ways and overbearing sometimes, but he likes being challenged. He likes this.
So do I.
“What now, Sable?” he murmurs, and just the sound of his voice makes my core clench. “What do you want now?”
“My breasts.”
He arches an eyebrow at me, challenging me right back.
“Put your mouth on them,” I clarify, and although my cheeks heat a little, I hold his gaze steadily, my entire body humming with arousal. “On my nipples.”
“Fucking hell.” The words are barely past Trystan’s lips before he drops his head to my chest, nuzzling his face between my breasts as he palms them, squeezing them together. As I look down at him, I could swear he’s trying to suffocate himself in my cleavage, and the thought makes liquid heat pool in my core.
“Nipples,” I demand, drawing even more confidence from the incredible feelings ricocheting through me, and the fact that every command I give him seems to turn Trystan on even more. “Suck them. Lick them. Bite them.”
He growls low in his throat, switching his attention to one of my breasts and drawing it deep into his mouth. The pressure on my nipple is so sharp it almost hurts, but I dig my toes into the floor and arch into his touch, loving the way the bite of pain drips down to my core as pure pleasure.
Trystan does exactly what I instructed, sucking and lapping at my nipples before tugging them between his teeth, teasing them with the tip of his tongue. My head lolls against the wall, my entire body going slack as all my focus narrows down to the places where he’s touching me.
“What else?” he mutters against my skin as he attacks one of my breasts again. He’s breathing harder, and his hands are roaming over my body again. “I’ll do this all fucking day unless you tell me you want something else, sweetheart.”
I groan softly.
He means it. I’m sure of it.
He would happily keep doing this for hours, and part of me is tempted to let him. My entire body is flushed, my skin tingling, and if this goes on much longer, I think I’ll orgasm without him ever touching me below the waist.
But I want him to touch me there.
I want his hungry, forceful mouth buried between my thighs. I want him to do everything he’s doing right now, but lower.
“Take off my pants,” I instruct, pressing my hips away from the wall like he might need a visual guide to what I’m asking for.
Trystan gives a satisfied hum and undoes my jeans, shoving them down over my hips and sliding them down my legs before helping me step out of them. He left my underwear on, and as he kneels in front of me, I know he sees the damp spot in the thin fabric. He leans a little closer, his mouth dropping open slightly as a look of such abject desire crosses over his face that it makes my heart skip a beat.
But he doesn’t touch me.
He’s waiting for me to tell him what I want.
The words come even easier this time, and I feel dirty and proud of it as I grab a fistful of his hair, drawing his gaze up to my face. “Put your mouth on me, Trystan. Lick my pussy.”
His nostrils flare, the black of his pupils expanding rapidly to overtake his turquoise irises. “Fuck, I like you like this.”
I grin at him, and the spell is broken for a moment as he grins back, the two of us smiling crazily at each other like two giddy teenagers.
Then Trystan grabs the fabric of my panties on both sides and tugs my hips toward him. My smile disappears on a gasp as he drags his nose along my cloth-covered core. When he reaches my clit, he wraps his lips around me, sucking on the fabric of my panties as his tongue dances over my sensitive bud.
The back of my skull hits the wall with a hard thunk as I tip my head back, but neither one of us really notices. I’m too busy trying to stay upright, and Trystan’s too busy trying to eat me alive.
He tortures me through my panties, teasing me with the way his tongue almost touches my skin. I have a sudden hatred for the small scrap of fabric clinging to my hips, and when I reach down and yank the crotch of my panties to one side, Trystan lets out a low chuckle.
“Something you want, Sable?”
“Your mouth on me.” I stare down the length of my body at his handsome, upturned face. His features always look so perfect and sharp, but from this angle, I see a softness to him that I’ve never noticed before. “I want your mouth on me. Nothing between us. I want to feel all of you.”
“Jesus. I don’t know where you learned to talk dirty, but you’re a fucking natural, sweetheart.” For a second, his expression turns serious, his gaze burning into mine. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a shot with a woman like you, but I’m glad as fuck I found you.”
My heart swells in my chest, making it hard to draw in a full breath. The heat of our argument has settled into something else. Something heavy and sweet and so real it almost scares me.
I smile down at him, my lips wobbling a little as I thread my fingers through his chocolate brown hair. The moment lingers between us for a moment, and then Trystan leans forward and presses a kiss to my clit. It’s soft and tender, and even though it doesn’t exactly feed the arousal pulsing through me, it makes my core clench anyway.
My hand stays in his hair, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth as I watch him slide my panties off and slowly begin to work my clit with his tongue.
I’ve never… watched this closely before, the few times one of the men has done this to me. But now I find that I can’t look away. My gaze is riveted, fascinated by the way his mouth moves over my core, exploring and experimenting until he finds out exactly what I like.
At one point, he hikes one of my legs over his shoulder to give him a better, closer angle. I can barely keep my standing leg from buckling as he stiffens his tongue and spears me with it, making my inner walls clench hard in anticipation.
“Trystan!” I tug at his hair, trying to pull him up to stand. I’m so close, so freaking close. I want to feel him inside me. “Fuck me. Please!”
I feel his smile against my skin as he goes back to circling my clit. But despite my firm grip on his hair, this time he doesn’t follow my command.
“Come on my face, sweetheart,” he murmurs roughly. “Then I’ll fuck you.”
Oh, God. Did he say I’m good at dirty talk? The filthy promise in his voice is all it takes to push me past my breaking point. I fly over the edge, my standing leg shuddering as the other one tightens around him, my hips grinding against his face. He keeps lapping at me until he feels my body relax, all the tension draining from my muscles.
Then he slides my leg off his shoulder and surges to his feet, already pulling his shirt off with one hand. His pants go next, and he’s naked so fast my brain can barely keep up. I get a single heartbeat to admire his muscular frame and narrow hips before he’s picking me up, pressing my back against the wall as he wraps my legs around his waist.
He reaches down between us, fisting his cock and lining himself up, and then he drives his hips forward, impaling me in one thrust.
I’m tight. So tight.
But I’m also so fucking wet.
The stretch of my walls sends a shock through my entire body, but it’s not painful. The heavy grunt that falls from my lips makes Trystan pause for a moment though.
“Sable,” he murmurs, drawing back a little to look down at me.
But I wrap my arms and legs around him, pinning him tightly to me as my lips brush the shell of his ear. “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I whisper.
I feel the vibrations of his chuckle as his shoulders relax a little. Then his lips descend on mine, kissing me ravenously as he begins to fuck me against the wall. This is a new position for me, and I like the way he gets so deep, the way his arms flex as he holds me up. I feel both in control and at his mercy, and I nip at his lip as a heady rush of adrenaline fills me.
His thrusts are hard, and every time our bodies crash together, we let out twin groans. They get louder and louder as we each build toward our climax, and when Trystan stills inside me and grinds his hips against mine, I let out a broken sob as pleasure washes through me. He pulses inside me several times, and as we start to come down from the high, my fingernails gently scratch the back of his neck, sliding through his short hair.
He kisses me, his tongue probing and exploring—a deep, long kiss. When we finally break apart, our gazes lock for a moment, and I see so much in his expression that it nearly overwhelms me.
I glance down the hallway toward the bedroom door, which is mere feet away. “We were close.”
A laugh bursts from Trystan’s lips, and when I look back at him, his eyes are dancing with amusement. “Yeah, we were. I’m not sorry we didn’t make it though.”
I squeeze around him, making him groan. “Me neither.”
He kisses me soundly one more time, then pulls me away from the wall, holding me against him with a firm grip. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Still chuckling, he carries me the rest of the way down the corridor, nudging the door closed with his foot before depositing me on the bed. He pulls out of me but makes no move to let me go, lying down on the mattress beside me and gathering me into his embrace.
Good.
I’m not ready to let go of him either yet.
In fact, I don’t think I ever will be.
19
Trystan
My heart is still thudding hard several moments later, as I stare at the ceiling and wonder why I feel so different.
Sable’s tucked against my side, her naked body pressed against me. I have my arm around her, my fingers stroking every inch of available skin because I’m not ready to stop touching her yet. She feels so small under my arm, but I swear to fuck, she’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met. That’s saying something, considering half the females in my pack could bench press me with one arm.
This woman has been hurt more than most people ever will be in their lives, and despite that, she’s somehow managed to become larger than life. The way she stood up to me in the kitchen, her face hard, her lower lip jutting stubbornly? It moved the fucking earth beneath my feet. She stripped me bare and rolled around in my feelings like a wolf scenting herself. Just thinking about the way she owned me makes me hard again.
I feel fucking complete with her here, having claimed her for my own. Shit, I want to do it again. I can’t think of a person in this world that could be a better fit for me.
But I don’t move. I don’t want this moment to end.
She’s right too, even though I don’t think I’m ready to admit it. All that shit she said about me pushing everyone away, never listening to anybody. I never even consider how many sides there are to a story. My story is all I know. It’s the only truth I have.
My dad’s sort of an asshole. Plus, he fucking sucked at leading the pack and was neglecting his people. They relied on him for fair and balanced leadership, and he was too small-minded and petty to give them that.
But that’s my dad. Malcolm isn’t my dad. He’s worlds fucking different from my father, actually. He and Archer have a relationship I can’t fully understand, because I’ve never been in that position. So until this little spitfire of a girl tossed my own prejudices in my face, I couldn’t see th
at Malcolm and Archer are just different.
Not wrong. Just not me and my asshole of a dad.
“What are you thinking about?” Sable’s voice is low and husky, drifting up from her place on my chest. Her breath fans over my skin, and she’s tracing the muscles in my stomach with her fingertips. She has no idea she’s making me mindless with desire, though one good look down beneath the covers would fix that.
“I’m thinking,” I say, squeezing her against me, “that if you ever want to tell me off again—you should. In fact, you are more than welcome to tear into me until I see the light.”
She giggles, readjusting to look up at me from beneath her wild blonde hair. “I didn’t tear into you.”
I love the way she looks right now, her brilliant blue eyes satisfied, looking like she’s been fucked so thoroughly that she’s ruined for other men. Seeing her like this, so free and open, is the best part of my life right now. The aftermath of having sex with Sable is almost as fun as the act itself.
I curl the fingers of my other hand into her hair, grinning. “Yeah. You did. Like a pup with a T-bone.”
She bursts out laughing and swats at my chest, but I grab her hand before it hits me and tug her up to kiss her. Her lips are swollen from the first round, but she returns the kiss with just as much desire as I feel.
I roll her beneath me, and her thighs open around my waist until my rock hard cock is pressed against the hot apex between her legs. The kiss deepens, and I can’t hold off any longer. I reach between us, dipping my hands into her to see if she’s wet enough for me to sink into her warmth again. She’s still slick with my cum and her own arousal, and the sound she makes as my fingers slide inside her is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
But before I can angle my hips and push into her heat, Sable breaks the kiss, grabbing my arms and her eyes going wide as saucers. “Do you hear that?”
