The Beast (Wicked Villains #4) - Katee Robert Page 0,22

fist as my come spurts all over Isabelle’s pussy and up onto her hips. The sight of it is lewd as shit. I never, ever would have pulled a stunt like this before with her. I never would have dared debase her even the slightest in the way we are systematically doing now.

I love it.

Beast shoves me back down on all fours and resumes his relentless pace. I didn’t realize he was holding back, not until the moment he stops holding back. Each thrust drives a grunt from my throat, and I have to brace hard against the mattress, my face pressed against Isabelle’s sternum, to keep from sliding with the force of them. It feels so fucking good. I never want it to stop.

Against all reason, my cock starts hardening again. I curse and Beast laughs roughly. “Down.” He presses me down onto Isabelle, taking the time to line us up so that my cock slides through her pussy lips and up over her clit with each stroke, lubed up with my own come.

“Oh gods.” She lifts her hips as much as she’s able. “Please. Please, Gaeton, please, please, please. I ache for you.”

I almost forget myself, almost slide back enough to give me access to where we both want me to be. Beast’s hands gripping my hips stop me. “Don’t you fucking dare, Gaeton.” I’ll have bruises from his fingertips tomorrow. “You sink into her pussy, and I’m going to put a ring around your cock and play with you for hours before I let you come—if I let you come.”

Fuck, but that sounds hot as hell. Agonizing, but hot.

Still, I can’t let Beast get any funny ideas about what’s happening here. I drop my face to Isabelle’s neck and groan. “You’re not my Dom, asshole. I stop obeying you when this scene ends.”

Another savage thrust. “Then obey.”

I grind down against Isabelle’s pussy, on her clit. For just a moment, I allow myself to fantasize about if things were different. If we weren’t fighting, weren’t punishing Isabelle for a pair of broken hearts that festered instead of healing, if things were simple and I could sink into her as Beast sank into me, if we became something more than a fucked up love triangle.

I orgasm again, and this time Beast follows me over the edge. He yanks out of me and then his come hits my back. I barely manage to catch myself before I collapse onto her, and it’s Beast who guides me over to slump next to Isabelle’s smaller body. He moves to kneel between her thighs and gives her a cold smile. “You’re furious.”

“You have no idea,” she snarls.

“When’s the last time you were denied something you wanted, princess?” He skates his fingers down her stomach, smearing my come across her skin. “You don’t need to think so hard. I already know the answer—never. You’ve never been denied.” He pushes two fingers into her. Even over her moan, I hear his breath shudder.

I understand the reaction down to a cellular level. Getting my mouth on her after a year felt like … I don’t have the fucking words to describe it. Isabelle might have clawed my heart out of my chest, but I still miss the fuck out of her. Apparently I’m not the only one.

Beast fucks her slowly with his fingers. I don’t like the guy, but best I can tell, he’s a decent Dom. There are a couple ways to play out the end of this scene depending on what we’re trying to accomplish. The cruel thing would be to leave Isabelle hanging on the edge, denied one last orgasm. It’s not how I’d handle things, but Beast is leading this time around, so I push back the instinctive desire to make her come screaming again and let him work.

And that’s when I realize what he’s doing. He’s using my come as lube to fuck her. He circles her clit with his thumb again and again until Isabelle digs her heels into the mattress in an attempt to get closer. “Please. Please don’t stop.”

I don’t expect Beast to turn those baby blues on me. “What do you think, Gaeton?”

“Don’t leave her on the edge.”

“You’re so fucking nice sometimes.” He shakes his head. He’s still drawing Isabelle closer and closer to the edge, for all that he’s focused on me. This, too, is a dose of humiliation to our woman’s pride.

I follow his lead and don’t look at her, though I’m clocking her reactions