Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

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.

sweet for your own good, wolf," she says, but there’s less bite in her tone

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

right—the thought of any part of him still inside

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

Fuck.

even thinking about

How I’d make her beg and scream and writhe under

really

snaps. I grab a fistful of her rainbow hair. The jealousy turns

"Spit," I order.

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

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

Fuck it.

my thumbs, taut and aching. I stroke my fingers slowly across her curves, teasing the sensitive tips until her

can smell her pussy, the heat and invitation there, and it’s so fucking

That would be pathetic.

chump kind

I show her that side of me, even

Her breath stutters, but she doesn’t pull away. I do the same to the other, twisting

There we go.

attitude. A spitfire in

in my hands. Every touch feels like a button I’ve just discovered—one I want to press until she breaks

twitch again,