Ruler (Wolves of Royal Paynes #2) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,48

on my shirt.

"I should avoid him," he said resolutely. "If it's too hard for him to be around me…"

"No. Don't avoid him. The alpha you see now is a shell of the man that used to exist, but he's still there. The real Diesel lurks inside, and I believe he's healing every day. None of this is an excuse for him to be rude to you, though. Snapping at you at lunch wasn't acceptable simply because he's experienced tragedy. You had no idea, and that was my fault, not yours."

Storri continued rubbing his face against my shirt. He was always so tentative that when he simply took what he wanted from me, even when it wasn't sexual, my body responded as if it were. This was no time to get hard. No one had sent my dick that message.

Storri noticed a second later. His rubbing lessened, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

I'd mastered my body, or thought I had. I enjoyed control, which was part of the reason I liked working on machines so much. No matter the type or purpose, there were ways things operated, a progression of events that, if deviated from, caused a problem that I would locate and fix. I'd treated my body the same way, but it had taken one curvy, pint-sized nephilim to show me how little control I really had.

I expected Storri to push away, so when he pressed a small, firm kiss against my jaw, I growled low and long.

I didn't have to worry about Storri misinterpreting my growls. His experience with animals seem to allow him to know that there were happy growls and warning growls. This one was an aroused growl that was met with a wave of ripe cherry.

His kisses continued up the line of my jaw. Small, high-pitched noises sounded in the back of his throat as the passion of the moment dragged us under. In the next second, I had Storri in my lap, straddling my thighs as I cupped his chin. I explored his mouth with my tongue, savoring the taste of him.

Storri's arousal wrapped around me, seeping into my skin where it attached to my bones, nerve endings, and muscles. I'd had no idea claiming him would make me owned as well, but this man wiggling with need on my lap controlled me, body and mind.

"The way you move your body should be illegal," I murmured against his mouth.

His tongue poked out, and I latched on. The barriers between us were agony. Nothing should ever have separated us, not time, distance, or even clothing.

I wouldn't strip my mate bare in the middle of a forest I hadn't fully scouted, though, so I had to settle for letting him use me like a cat against a scratching post. His hips rolled forward. There was nothing fake or forced about Storri. Every hip thrust was authentic. In fact, I would've gone as far as to say Storri had no idea how the undulating motion was like throwing gasoline on a forest fire.

I stood suddenly, taking my mate with me. Propping his back against a nearby tree, he wound his legs around my waist, his arms around my neck. He never stopped kissing me. I wasn't sure he even knew we were standing now. My feet dug into the ground, making myself a foundation for Storri to writhe against.

"Yes, sweet prince, I'm here for your pleasure." My words were little more than a low rumble. Pleasure throbbed from my center in steady, euphoric pulses.

"Faust—" he gasped. "It's…you make me feel like I'm on fire." His head fell back against the tree, and he wailed toward to the heavens.

Clutching a plump butt cheek in each hand, I kneaded them, pulling my hands apart to expose his sweet pucker. He still wore pants, but the smell of his arousal thickened like I'd uncovered the source of his desire. I rubbed over his hole, and his responding hiss went straight to my dick. My balls were heavy, engorged, and ready—oh so ready—to empty inside my mate.

"I'm tingling all over," Storri muttered with a frustrated edge. He ceased his humping for long enough to give an exasperated pout. "I don't know how… help me."

My kitten didn't need to ask twice. I gripped his hips with a growl, relying on his arms around my neck to keep the rest of him upright. I ground against him with the knowledge that I'd never enjoyed dry-humping as much as I did right then. Storri's