Page 31 of Vicious Luna
“Jesus, what do you feed that thing?” I blurt, a steady throb starting between my legs as I stare at the way he’s gripping that weapon of mass destruction. It’s so thick that his own fingers barely touch as he gives it a lazy stroke, and all my blood rushes south, my mouth watering.
“Is this what you want, Luna?” he asks, lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk while he watches me watching him.
Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t even know.
I can’t look away, though, my teeth sinking into the cushion of my lower lip with a bite of pain from the split skin as I watch him run his thumb over the tip, smearing a drop of precum down his veiny shaft.
Jesus fuck, why am I so turned on right now?
I lift my beer bottle to my lips, tipping it up and chugging.
“Dirty little beastie,” Cam murmurs, his hand moving faster over his erection.
My throat burns as I swallow down the rest of my beer, wiping my mouth off on a wrist and mentally berating myself to get it the fuck together. I’m supposed to be messing with him right now, not the other way around. I draw a shallow breath, pinching the skin on the side of my thigh as I compose myself.
“Is that what you do when you watch me on the camera?” I ask in a husky voice, my eyes flickering from the movement of his hand to his face.
“Sometimes,” he admits.
Fuckingknewit.
His eyes stay trained on mine as his breaths shorten, the rhythm of his strokes becoming more erratic.
“You gonna come, Cam?” I purr, toying with the hem of myt-shirt and flashing him some skin. “You gonna show me just how much youdon’twant this?”
“Take your shirt off,” he pants raggedly, jerking his chin in command. “Let me see those tits.”
This is the most he’s ever lowered his guard around me, and I smirk in satisfaction, lifting the hem of my t-shirt a little more to tease him. “Mmm, I don’t know,” I hum, the needy pulse between my own legs increasing exponentially as I watch him start to lose it. My nipples harden as I raise my shirt a little more to give him a quick glimpse of them, and I’m rewarded with a throaty groan from Cam as he blows his load all over his hand. He throws his head back, panting as he strokes himself through his climax, and the twisted sense of victory that spears through me is almost enough to drown out my own desire.
His ragged breaths echo in the silence around us as he starts to come back down, tipping his head forward and opening his eyes. They meet mine in an instant, brimming with so much regret that I almost reconsider what I’m about to do next.Almost.This is the furthest I’ve ever pushed him, and far be it for me to miss the chance to twist the knife.
My lips curve into a cruel smile as Cam quickly strips off his hoodie, scowling and grumbling curses under his breath as he cleans up the mess on his hand and tucks his softening dick back into those sexy ass sweatpants.
“Like I said before, flash a tit and men lose all sense,” I quip, chuckling in amusement. “Thanks for proving my point that you reallyarethe weaker sex.”
He shoots to his feet, the folding chair tipping backwards and landing on the cement floor with a loud clatter. “The fuck did you just say?” he snarls, twisting the fabric of the hoodie tightly in his grip as he takes a menacing step forward.
“I think you heard me,” I reply with a saucy wink.
Dominant energy rolls off him in waves and I swear I hallucinate seeing a flash of gold in his eyes before he whipsaround, kicking the six pack of empty bottles across the floor. They careen into the opposite wall, glass shattering, and I wince at the sound as he stomps away toward the stairs.
There’s a strange stirring sensation in my chest as I watch him disappear from view; one I haven’t felt in so long that it takes me a second recognize it for what it is.
My inner wolf yawns, stretching out her paws.
Well hello, old friend.
15
Griff’s face looks fucking terrible. His skin is a watercolor of purples and greens, the sclera of one of his eyes is pure red, and I can’t tell whether he’s scowling or if it’s just the swelling in his jaw pinching his lips together like that. As soon as I enter the back of the house and spot him, he quickly snaps his gaze away like a skittish little rat.As he should. If he has any thoughts about touching something that doesn’t belong to him again, one look at his mangled face in the mirror will remind him of the consequences for not keeping his damn hands to himself.
I stifle a smirk as I veer toward the kitchen, helping myself to some coffee and tipping a healthy pour of Jameson into my cup. This killer headache warrants some hair of the dog. You’d think I’d learn my lesson about hangovers at this point, but I need something to take the edge off, and if I start drinking again first thing in the morning, they’re short lived. Except for this damn migraine that I haven’t been able to shake for the better part of a week now.
Maybe I should get checked out by our medic. It can’t be normal to go through every day feeling like someone’s taking a chisel to the inside of your skull. He’d probably just blame iton the booze, though, and I’m not about to quit that habit anytime soon, so I guess I’ll just have to endure. I’d rather deal with the physical pain than the mental anguish that comes with being sober. Alcohol dulls the ache in my soul.
“Morning, Knox,” Matty greets as he strides into the kitchen, sidestepping past me to get to the fridge. He glances back at me as he pulls open the door. “Need the tray?”
“Yeah, just whenever you get to it,” I reply, my voice still rough with sleep. I tossed and turned all damn night after that shit Luna pulled when I went down to visit her. Not that I was able to rest before that, which was why I ended up outside her cell in the first place. I’d already been watching her on the video feed, but I wanted to see the real thing. I wasn’t even going to wake her, but since she was already up…