Page 67 of Resisted

This moment with Vincent did nothing but prove that fact. My whole body was electrified when he touched me. The magic that flowed between us was so pure, I knew it was pulsing off of us. This, us, we couldn’t be a mistake. There was no way.

My body jolted forward, the pain of the hard movement mixed with the pleasure of Vincent’s cock rubbing deliciously against my inner walls, and my fingers curled in the dirt, the leaves and brush below my hands sticking to my palms. The more I challenged him, the more calculated he became, the more intense the pleasure.

He moved, then his body froze. His entire demeanor stiffened behind me. What caused the change, I was unsure, but when he didn’t move after a few moments, I turned my head toward him. “You still with me, Vincent?”

I knew he hated when I called him that, but saying it now was almost like my own twisted game of foreplay. It kept building, compiling, until he finally couldn’t handle me or my mouth any longer. And when he let me shimmy down his body and take his cock between my lips, I nearly came right on the spot.

“I’m just warming up, baby.” His body slammed into mine so hard and fast, I jolted forward, nearly losing my grip on the ground. He paused for a moment, his fingers digging into my bare skin, his free hand rubbing gently against my back, his cock pulsing so hard, I was sure he was about to lose it. But then he dragged his body back, the friction nearly driving me mad with want as I pushed back toward him, trying to keep the contact and the feel of him stretching me for as long as possible.

The absence didn’t last long. It was mere seconds before he was pushing back into me, his pace picking up, the strength behind his hips growing in intensity as he thrust his body into my own. I was barely hanging on, hardly able to keep my head up, my fingers barely finding purchase on the ground below me before they were once again pushed forward by the strength of Vincent’s hips.

It was pain.

It was pleasure.

It was pure ecstasy.

It was… His fingers laced in my hair, pulling my body off the ground and my back to his chest. It was bliss. He was bliss. His body heat radiating into my own was bliss. The feel of his cock pushing and pulling inside of me was bliss.

“Have you ever been owned, baby?” His voice in my ear made a shiver rack my spine, just as my body bounced forward again, propelled by his hips.

My fingers found his thighs, digging into them as I held on, trying to ground myself, anchor myself, stabilize myself. “No.”

Fates. Was that my voice? It sounded so fucking weak and needy that it tore a growl from his throat. “I’m going to own every inch of this body, baby. Every inch.”

Fuck, didn’t he realize he already did? Every inch of my skin burned and begged for release, my nerves tingling with energy as the pleasure built. I knew without a single doubt that it was only a matter of time before it all became too much and my body detonated with nerve-racking pleasure.

His body working mine was wild, untamed, the energy completely and utterly untapped, and everything I knew about Vincent told me that fucking him would always be like this. Would always be like standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering in both directions, ready to fall but not willing to fully jump.

His teeth scrapped against my neck. Damnit, I didn’t want to offer it to him because that would mean he’d won, but I thought we both knew he’d already won this battle long before I showed defeat. The truth is, future repercussions be damned, but I wanted him to bite me. I wanted him to claim me. I wanted to be his.

Not that I would tell him that. So instead of begging, I only taunted him as his body was seated deep inside of me. “I would hate for you to lose a dare, Vincent.”

His fingers dug into my hips as he lifted my body off of himself, and I saw stars when he slammed me back down again. “I won’t lose.”

I struggled to open my eyes, my body trying to reach for the break that was right there. “You’re so fucking into it.”

“Baby.” The word was a growl, a plea, a statement, then his hand traveled around my body and started strumming my clit. “I could fuck you a thousand times, own every each of this body, ruin you for every damn person, and even so, I wouldn’t lose that dare.”

“So fucking cocky,” I stated as my head fell to his shoulders, my body growing weak with the intensity of it all.

“I’m fucking honest.” He pushed up into me, forcing my clit hard against his palm as he strummed, and I knew at this rate, I would not last long. Hell, I was already ready to combust mere moments after the last time he’d wrung an orgasm from my body. It didn’t take much. Not with him. Not with any of them, I suspected. They all did something to me, something to my mind and body that was nearly impossible to ignore.

His breath was becoming harsh, and I knew he was struggling as I was, struggling to maintain control, when deep down, we both knew we were wild animals. We didn’t do control. We did fast and hard and intense and so fucking real that there was no doubt in my mind what was happening. He was claiming me. Sure, he wasn’t willing to bite me, but his imprint was being left on my skin, in my body, so deep that not a single person would doubt that he had staked a claim.

Vincent owned me.

They all did.

Maybe Boyce was hesitant and Silas had too much willpower, but I had no doubt in my mind that when they scented Vincent on my skin, mixed with my scent, their resolve would crumble and they would be mine. Every single one of them. It might take a moment for them all to follow, but once one broke, the rest always did. They were a team. A pack. A family.

My family.

My knees throbbed, the skin nearly raw from being dragged across the ground with each of his thrusts, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t. The pain only added to the pleasure. The burn only made each push in more intense. The throb left me wanting more with each draw out.

“You’re impossible,” he whispered, his voice hoarse against my neck as his fingers tugged at the strands of my hair.

“I’m real,” I murmured. I’d always been here, completely, a hundred percent real with them. I’d hidden none of my wants, not like I could, anyway. They could smell it. I knew that for a fact. Even if you disregarded the fact that we were all wolves, animals with senses of monumental proportions, I knew they could still tell. Every time they were around me, their nostrils flared, searching the air for the scent of me.