Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 130

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Chapter 130: Jack-Eye: Clean Your Dirty Mouth

JACK-EYE

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Not that I’d ever admit it out loud. I’ve had my share of women—more than my share, if we’re being honest—but this is different. Lyre wants something more. Something with teeth and edges. A dominance running deeper than two bodies colliding.

Her ass is pink from my hand, a perfect handprint streaked across her creamy skin. She’s still on all fours, legs spread just enough to give me a cock-throbbing view. She’s wet—slick and glistening—and every instinct in my body screams to just drive into her, claim her, make her mine.

But no. First things first. Stop getting distracted, Jack-Eye.

I turn abruptly, walking away from the bed and her perfect ass. From the bathroom, I grab one of those wrapped plastic cups they leave by the sink and fill it with water from the tap. When I come back, she’s sitting up on her heels, a slight frown creasing her forehead. The sight of her naked and waiting makes me want to toss the cup over my shoulder and force her pretty little mouth onto my cock, to feel the heaven she already bestowed upon the damn twitchy wizard, but I keep my expression neutral.

“Drink,” I thrust the cup into her hand, my voice a little rougher and deeper than I mean for it to be.

One eyebrow arches perfectly. “You left me alone for this?” The sarcasm drips from her voice, but there’s something else there too—curiosity, maybe.

“Get him out of your mouth, sweetheart.”

Her lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, but I catch it. A tiny crack in her impenetrable wall.

Between the barest ghost of a smile and the scent of her arousal between her legs, wafting delicately in the air, I’m pretty sure I’m doing okay.

For now.

Maybe.

“You’re too sweet for your own good, wolf,” she says, but there’s less bite in her tone than usual. Something’s shifted. Defenses officially breached.

I climb onto the bed behind her as she takes a sip, settling on my knees. My hands find her back, running down her spine in firm, possessive strokes. Her skin is warm silk under my palms. But even as I touch her, I can’t shake the image of Thom’s dick in her mouth, spurting his nasty wizard cum into her mouth.

It doesn’t sit right—the thought of any part of him still inside her burns my gut.

I want to drag her out in front of him, take her from behind as he watches. Want my cock deep inside, my hand around her throat, showing Thom she was never his and always meant to be mine.

Fuck.

My balls tighten even thinking about it.

Thinking about how I could claim her, suck the tender skin of her neck and bite down as he watches. How I’d make her beg and scream and writhe under my touch, my hands, when she wouldn’t even let him touch her.

Prove who’s really winning here.

She swishes the water around in her mouth, and something in me snaps. I grab a fistful of her rainbow hair. The jealousy turns bitter and nasty in my stomach.

“Spit,” I order.

Without turning, without question, she obeys—spits into the cup cleanly. I take it from her hand and set it on the nightstand, as far away from us as I can reach.

She remains on her knees, still and waiting. Then she reaches behind her, finds my hands, and places them firmly on her breasts. The weight of them fills my palms perfectly. I hesitate for just a heartbeat—this is the moment to decide how far we’re going.