her breast, squeezed the nipple as she cried out. “Not so rough.”
“Thought you liked it rough.” Lust darkened his gaze. He herded her backward, to the bed, and threw her down on her stomach. “I like it like this.”
Grayson cupped her ass, kneaded it. Then he spread her cheeks wide, sliding a finger down the crevice. “Such a tight, pretty ass.”
His hand dived between her swollen, soaked folds, drawing out moisture, sliding it over the pucker of her anus. He dipped a thumb inside as he played with her clit. She cried out with pleasured shock.
“Like that, sugar? I can do more. Much more. Maybe later, when I get back. For now, I have time only for a quick hard fuck.”
Gripping her hips, he stroked his cock over her dripping channel. The teasing motion had her moaning. Then he pushed at her, withdrew in a slow torturous stroke. Samantha wriggled her bottom in impatience.
With a grunt, he thrust deep inside. Their flesh slapped together, his swollen balls banging against her, his fingers digging into her tender skin. A climax shimmered just out of reach. She pushed back against him, then took his hand and guided it to her front. Grayson played with her clit, and the hard press combined with his excited grunts and aggressive thrusts built the pressure higher. She cried out, squeezing hard down on him, his shout mingling with her scream.
When he pulled out, he used the sheet to wipe himself off. As he dressed, she collapsed on the bed in a languid daze, shivering.
“It’s cold in here. Light a fire?”
He snorted. “What do I look like, a gods damned servant?”
Samantha raised herself up on an elbow. “Please.”
Logs on the stone fireplace lay ready. Grayson opened his mouth and a lick of fire ignited them. Weak with shock, she stared.
He had her powers, but hadn’t mitigated the demon. He shouldn’t have breathed fire…
What was he?
Chapter Eight
The bathroom was large and luxurious, but she cared only for the privacy. Samantha ran the shower as an excuse and sat on the tub’s lip. Demon strength had enabled her to survive. Maybe it was about time she tapped her angelic powers.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned Grayson’s home. The cozy interior, made warm by his heated, sexy smile. Saw him as he’d been, tender and funny, considerate…
White light shimmered around her, sending tendrils of heat curling through her body. She felt her mind drifting, soaring over meadow and mountain, until she could see the cabin. A high-pitched scream came from inside.
Her spirit floated through the closed door. In the living room, eight wolves surrounded a naked, cowering man on all fours. The man moaned as one delivered slow, methodical punches. Her spirit cringed at the cruel blows, but more so at the animal pain the man suffered.
Why didn’t he fight back?
She recognized the attacker from the bar. Must be Russell, the pack enforcer Grayson mentioned. Russell kicked the man in the ribs, gloating as he moaned. “Not so tough now, are you, lone wolf? Where’s your super powers? Or did you finally decide to come crawling back to us for obedience training, after you left?”
Her spirit ached at the man’s pitiful whimpers. His bare back was covered with darkening bruises, but the strong muscles, the scars looked familiar.
And then he raised his head, gray gaze dull and resigned.
With a low gasp, she fell back into her body. Breathing heavily, she hung her head, feeling weakened and sick.
The man in Grayson’s cabin was the Ancient himself. He collapsed under another well-placed kick. The shifters laughed, and ambled out of the cabin. “C’mon, leave him and let’s get back to town and fetch our leader. He’s not going anywhere.”
A hard knock at the door roused her. The knob jiggled. “Yo, Samantha, want to spare some water for me?”
She struggled to return to this plane. Samantha gathered her composure, turned off the shower as the door opened. Grayson’s appreciative gaze swept
“Thought you liked it rough.” Lust darkened his gaze. He herded her backward, to the bed, and threw her down on her stomach. “I like it like this.”
Grayson cupped her ass, kneaded it. Then he spread her cheeks wide, sliding a finger down the crevice. “Such a tight, pretty ass.”
His hand dived between her swollen, soaked folds, drawing out moisture, sliding it over the pucker of her anus. He dipped a thumb inside as he played with her clit. She cried out with pleasured shock.
“Like that, sugar? I can do more. Much more. Maybe later, when I get back. For now, I have time only for a quick hard fuck.”
Gripping her hips, he stroked his cock over her dripping channel. The teasing motion had her moaning. Then he pushed at her, withdrew in a slow torturous stroke. Samantha wriggled her bottom in impatience.
With a grunt, he thrust deep inside. Their flesh slapped together, his swollen balls banging against her, his fingers digging into her tender skin. A climax shimmered just out of reach. She pushed back against him, then took his hand and guided it to her front. Grayson played with her clit, and the hard press combined with his excited grunts and aggressive thrusts built the pressure higher. She cried out, squeezing hard down on him, his shout mingling with her scream.
When he pulled out, he used the sheet to wipe himself off. As he dressed, she collapsed on the bed in a languid daze, shivering.
“It’s cold in here. Light a fire?”
He snorted. “What do I look like, a gods damned servant?”
Samantha raised herself up on an elbow. “Please.”
Logs on the stone fireplace lay ready. Grayson opened his mouth and a lick of fire ignited them. Weak with shock, she stared.
He had her powers, but hadn’t mitigated the demon. He shouldn’t have breathed fire…
What was he?
Chapter Eight
The bathroom was large and luxurious, but she cared only for the privacy. Samantha ran the shower as an excuse and sat on the tub’s lip. Demon strength had enabled her to survive. Maybe it was about time she tapped her angelic powers.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned Grayson’s home. The cozy interior, made warm by his heated, sexy smile. Saw him as he’d been, tender and funny, considerate…
White light shimmered around her, sending tendrils of heat curling through her body. She felt her mind drifting, soaring over meadow and mountain, until she could see the cabin. A high-pitched scream came from inside.
Her spirit floated through the closed door. In the living room, eight wolves surrounded a naked, cowering man on all fours. The man moaned as one delivered slow, methodical punches. Her spirit cringed at the cruel blows, but more so at the animal pain the man suffered.
Why didn’t he fight back?
She recognized the attacker from the bar. Must be Russell, the pack enforcer Grayson mentioned. Russell kicked the man in the ribs, gloating as he moaned. “Not so tough now, are you, lone wolf? Where’s your super powers? Or did you finally decide to come crawling back to us for obedience training, after you left?”
Her spirit ached at the man’s pitiful whimpers. His bare back was covered with darkening bruises, but the strong muscles, the scars looked familiar.
And then he raised his head, gray gaze dull and resigned.
With a low gasp, she fell back into her body. Breathing heavily, she hung her head, feeling weakened and sick.
The man in Grayson’s cabin was the Ancient himself. He collapsed under another well-placed kick. The shifters laughed, and ambled out of the cabin. “C’mon, leave him and let’s get back to town and fetch our leader. He’s not going anywhere.”
A hard knock at the door roused her. The knob jiggled. “Yo, Samantha, want to spare some water for me?”
She struggled to return to this plane. Samantha gathered her composure, turned off the shower as the door opened. Grayson’s appreciative gaze swept
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