Wolf Bite (Wolf Cove #2) (19 page)

“Oh, fuck. Abbi. I’m almost... I’m all the way in.”

I revel in the feeling of being completely full of Ronan, of
having him inside me.

Until he rubs that spot with a wet finger.

“Relax.”

I clench instinctively but he keeps rubbing his thumb over
and over and over, applying just a touch of pressure with each pass, all the
while still pushing into me, again and again, helping to distract me.

Then a gob of something wet lands on my backside. “What is
that?”

“My spit. I need you really wet.”

People actually do that?

He rubs his saliva all over me, until everything feels slick
and strange.

“Take a deep breath.”

I do, and he begins pushing his thumb inside me, so slowly.
There’s a burn that’s not entirely painful but not at all comfortable. “Relax,
Abbi. And trust me. You’ll be begging me to fuck this soon enough.”

I don’t know about that, but I take another deep breath and concentrate
on Ronan’s swollen cock pumping in and out of me at a slow and steady rhythm,
his hips circling with each thrust. Soon enough, my body is loosening enough
that I barely notice the burn as he continues to inch his thumb deeper into me.

First time having sex and Ronan is already sticking things
into my ass. Even Henry didn’t attempt that. Suddenly I can’t help but giggle.
“You
are
depraved.”

“You love it. Don’t worry, I’m almost there,” he whispers
with a groan, thrusting his hips at just the right angle to help build that
delicious heaviness in my belly, even as I feel an almost unbearable feeling of
fullness everywhere else. I can’t help but spread my legs farther apart and
stick my ass up higher, desperate for this orgasm that’s hiding in the
recesses.

“Did you touch yourself last night, like I asked you to?”

There’s no room for shame
with him, not right now. “Yes.”

“I knew you would.” He begins thrusting harder. “I need you
to do it again now because I won’t last. You feel too good, and I want you to
come with me.”

I reach back with one hand
and begin rubbing my swollen, wet clit, my fingers catching the side of his
cock every once in a while as it plunges into me.

“Faster, Abbi. Rub harder.”

I obey, rubbing myself with
quick strokes, my fingertips gliding over myself. Knowing that he’s struggling
not to come spurs me on, bringing my orgasm closer.

“Fuck. I’m about to explode.”
His fingers dig into my hip as he hammers against me, hitting my back wall over
and over again hard and fast. I’m vaguely aware of my knees sliding against the
abrasive mattress but I don’t care, so focused on how Ronan both fills me and
violates me but in the sexiest way. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. It just feels
strange.

I curl my head under and
watch upside down as his thick, rigid cock disappears inside me over and over
again, coated in my slickness. So much of it. I didn’t think I’d ever get that
wet for another guy again. But I have, for Ronan.

My orgasm comes on in a rush,
and I cry out as I’m flooded with heat, my muscles not only pulsing around his
cock but around his thumb as well, in what feels like a double orgasm. I ride
the intense wave and then another intense wave, my body going wild with the
conflicting sensations, until the spasms still and I’m left wanting to sprawl
out on the bed.

Dropping a single soft kiss
on my spine, Ronan pulls out, grabs the condom wrapper, and heads for the
bathroom.

Leaving me to get dressed in
bewilderment.

I can’t believe I just had
sex with Ronan.

I quickly pull my clothes on.
How do I really feel about that? I honestly have no idea.

I’m lacing my boots up when
he strolls in with his pants bucked but shirtless, his chest still gleaming
with the slightest coating of sweat.

“We should probably take our
trash.”

“In my pocket.” He yanks his
t-shirt over him. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

He turns to leave. And stops.
“You good?”

“I don’t know. What’s going
to happen now?”

“Well, now there’s going to
be a wedding.”

My eyes pop wide with his words.
“What?”

He frowns. “Back at the
hotel, remember?”

A wave of relief hits me.
“Right. The planters.”

He must finally clue in
because he starts chuckling. “You’re adorable.”

“You’re sure nothing is going
to turn weird between us?”

“By weird, do you mean, am I
going to think about fucking you constantly? Because I was already doing that
in my head.”

I blush.

His boots fall heavily on the
floor as he walks toward me. “Yeah, things are a little bit different. We’d be
idiots to think otherwise. I mean, we’re closer friends now, right?”

“Yes.” He’s seen me naked and
done things to me no one else has.

“But this thing you feel for
me, it’s not anything like you felt for him, right?”

I frown. What I felt for
Henry. That all-consuming burn in my chest, the way my heart still stutters
when someone mentions him even though I should despise him, the way my stomach
twists when I see pictures of him.

No, I don’t feel that with
Ronan. What I feel for Ronan is a strange, close friendship, nothing more. I’d
care if he were hurt, or sad, and I’ll miss seeing him every day when we’ve
parted ways. But I don’t see a romantic future between us. I don’t even hope
for one.

As if reading my mind, he
says, “See? Just good friends. Who sometimes fuck.” He pushes a stray hair off
my forehead. “Did it feel good?”

I hesitate for only a moment.
“Yes.”

He leans in to place a kiss
on my forehead. “Good, because I’d love to do it again, sometime.”

I think I’d love that, too.
God, what am I getting myself into here? “Please don’t tell anyone.”

A somber cloud flickers
across his face. “You should know me well enough by now.”

“You’re right. I do. I’m
sorry.”

“But just to warn you, Connor
will probably figure it out.”

I groan. “What’s he going to
say?”

“Seriously?” Ronan chuckles.
“He’s going to ask to join in next time.” Ronan sees my expression and starts
to laugh. He throws an arm around my neck like we’re buddies and weren’t just
naked together ten minutes ago. “We better go. Remember, if anyone asks... it
was a squirrel that made us late. A red one.”

I snort and trail him out of
the house, locking up behind me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I’ve gotta pull over for a minute,” Connor
announces. It’s just a phrase though, because there’s no “pulling over” around
here. He simply stops the truck in the middle of the lone road.

“Fuck. We made it just in time.” Ronan leans forward to look
up toward the sky through the windshield. The rain is coming down in sheets. I
can’t see two feet in front of us.

“What about all the wood? Will the tarp hold up?” The back
of the truck is full of freshly split wood, a half-assed attempt at covering it
with a yellow tarp as we quickly cleaned up, the clouds rolling in faster than
anyone anticipated.

“I hope so or Darryl will have our asses.” Connor starts
fussing with the dials, cranking the heat and turning up the music. “Might as
well get comfortable. They used the word ‘torrential’ in the forecast.”

“Well, in that case....” I reach behind the seat to pull out
the tiny white box that I’d hidden this morning before we left. “Autumn went to
Homer yesterday, so I had her stop at a bakery for me.” I hand it to Connor.
“Happy birthday!”

“It’s not his fucking birthday!” Ronan argues.

“Yeah, it is, you asshole.” His eyes light up as he opens
the box to pull out the vanilla cupcake.

“Sorry, there weren’t a lot of options.”

“Where’s mine?”

I turn to glare at Ronan. “Your birthday’s not until
November.”

He looks bewildered. “How do you even know that?”

“Because I looked through your wallet when you weren’t paying
attention, Ronan
Clarence
Lyle.”

Connor’s head falls back with his deep bellow of laughter.
“Dude, I think she’s making fun of you.”

I giggle as Ronan fakes a glower, but a devious smirk
follows closely behind.

“Thanks, Abbi. You’re a
real
friend.” Roping an arm
around my neck, Connor pulls me into a hug. Only he kisses me. Right on the
mouth. And not a quick kiss either.

I pull away with flushed cheeks, and glance over my shoulder
at Ronan, slightly panicked. He’s watching us intently, his chin propped up by
an elbow on the doorframe, his gaze flaring with heat. Only, not with anger. “Where’s
mine?”

“You’ll get yours in November.” I’ll have to mail it to his
place in Indianapolis.

“What if I want mine right now?” He reaches out to wrap his
arm around my waist and he slides my body backwards to him. “Come here.”

He’s not talking about cupcakes anymore. I’m not entirely
sure what he’s thinking is going to happen in this truck. It’s been four days
since that day at the cabin. True to his word, Ronan hasn’t treated me any
differently. Well, I feel him watching me more, and we’re sharing a lot of
secretive smiles. I haven’t noticed him giving any of the girls who normally
hit on him a second look.

He reaches up to slide the elastic from my hair, releasing my
ponytail. Weaving his fingers through my long, thick hair, he guides my head
back to rest against the seat.

And then he settles his mouth on mine in a kiss. A much
deeper and more intimate kiss than the one Connor just gave me, his tongue
slipping against the seam of my lips.

I push against his chest, forcing him away, so I can glare
at him with warning. “What are you doing?”

“I know, Abbi.” Connor licks icing off his fingers as he
devours the cupcake, already half done. “Said you were the best fuck he’s ever
had.”

My mouth drops open. I’m a mix between embarrassed that
Connor knows and oddly proud that Ronan said that, especially since I really
don’t know what I’m doing yet, compared to someone like Rachel or Katie.

Still.... “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m kissing you.” Ronan takes a firm grasp of my hair
again, tighter this time, and forces me backward until my head is resting
against his lap and he’s leaning over me, running the back of his knuckles
against my jaw softly, affectionately. “I told you, he doesn’t mind.” And Ronan’s
mouth is on mine again, his tongue prodding my mouth open to slide in.

It’s hard not to get lost in him, his lips so full and soft
and skilled. I can’t believe that I’ve had sex with this guy and yet I’m only
kissing him now.

Music fills the truck cab as Connor turns the volume up.
Ronan unweaves his hand from my hair, catching his fingers in the tangles. I
startle against his mouth when his hand cups my left breast.

Is this wrong? Letting Connor watch him do this?

“Does it feel good?” Ronan whispers, somehow honing in on
exactly where my nipple is, rubbing over it until it begins to harden.

“Yes, but—”

“No buts.” He smiles against my mouth. “Just close your eyes
and kiss me.”

“But Connor—”

“Connor is crazy about you.” He pulls back just long enough
to show me his eyes. “I’ll stop when you don’t enjoy it anymore. I promise.
Just say the word.”

I hear myself whisper, “Okay.”

His lips fall to mine again. And then his hand is sliding
down and under, and back up my work shirt. Within seconds he’s figured out that
the clasp is in the front and, with a push of the button, my breasts spring
free of my bra. He takes turns rubbing each one with his large, callused hands,
in that almost too-rough way of his.

I whimper, reaching up to pull his lips closer to mine, not
daring to look at Connor right now.

Ronan works my shirt up, and cool air touches my skin. I
hear a soft, “holy fuck,” come from the other side of the truck. Ronan’s bared
my breasts to Connor now.

Oh my God. This is really happening.

“You still good?” Ronan whispers against my mouth.

In some sick, depraved way, my heart swells for his concern
for my comfort in all this. “Yeah.” In some other sick, depraved way, having
him expose me like this stirs my blood.

“Good.” He smiles against my lips, continuing to kiss me
deeply and touch my breasts so possessively, until I find soft pants escaping
me against his mouth.

And then his hand begins sliding downward.

I suck in a gasp as his fingers skate along my abdomen to my
workpants. They rest on the button, his thumb toying with it. He breaks free from
my mouth—my lips now swollen from all the attention—just enough to look into my
eyes, to show me the lust he has for me.

And then he flicks the button open and unfastens the zipper.
I hold my breath as his fingers slide down and under my panties. He hooks a
finger and pushes into me.

I can’t believe I’m letting Ronan finger me in front of
Connor.

And I’m not telling him to stop.

Am I going to hell for this?

In and out, in a slow, repetitive flow, Ronan pushes his
finger, his breathing growing more rapid against my mouth. I grow more and more
wet, until the sound of it fills the truck’s interior. I’ll have to change my
panties when I get back.

“Do you want to come?” Ronan asks against my mouth.

“Yes,” I whisper, because I’m already almost there. A few
more minutes of this and my moans will fill this truck. I’ve all but forgotten
that we have a spectator at this point. Connor hasn’t uttered a single word
since he first saw my breasts.

“Okay. But we need to make it easier.”

We?

A second set of hands settles on the top of my pants to grip
and slowly pull them down over my hips, down my hips, to my knees. Past my
knees.

Connor pulls my legs up onto the truck bench, bending them
until my boots tuck against his thigh.

Ronan’s hand slides out of me to guide my thighs part.

I try to swallow my nerves.

“Look at him. He wants this. Badly.”

Steeling myself, I finally shift my gaze to where Connor
sits, taking my body in with hooded eyes, his chest heaving up and down with
rapid breaths.

Ronan holds his finger—the one he had inside me—to my lips.
“Suck.”

I comply, opening my mouth and tasting myself on him as he
pushes his finger in deep. I can’t help the moan that escapes me as he pulls it
out and begins lazily stroking my nipple.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Abbi,” Connor murmurs,
shifting in his seat to face me, his hands slowly running up the insides of my
thighs, rubbing them as he goes, and pushing them even farther apart. His eyes
are locked on mine, as if weighing my reaction.

Part of me wants to tell him to stop, to pull my pants up
and end this madness. That’s just my conscience, my “what would people say if
they knew?” angel on my shoulder.

But body is humming with anticipation.

When Connor’s hands have reached the apex of my thighs, his
thumbs resting on either side of my swollen lips, and I haven’t told him to
stop, a strange look comes over his face. I can’t explain it. It’s a mix of
shock, and happiness, and adoration.

Connor slides two fingers into me.

“She’s nice and wet,” Ronan murmurs, watching his friend
finger me without a hint of jealousy or possessiveness, his focus on my
breasts.

Connor’s thumb lands on my clit and he begins rubbing that
too. The feel of that, along with Ronan’s fingers on my nipple, is almost too
much. My muscles spasm.

Connor chuckles. “Don’t you dare. Not yet.” Leaning forward,
he covers my mound with his mouth.

I gasp and then moan, looking up at Ronan as Connor sucks on
my clit and blood floods toward my pelvis.

Ronan smiles—an “I told you” smile—and then leans forward to
kiss me again.

This is too much. Ronan’s mouth on mine, his hands on my
breasts, Connor’s tongue between my legs. It’s enough to drive someone insane.

Thirty seconds later, I’m bucking against Connor’s face, moaning
and crying out as I ride a wave like I’ve never ridden before, all my
inhibitions dissolved.

Connor sits up, letting his head fall back with a groan, his
lips glossy from me coming on them. He unzips his pants. I don’t even have to look
to know he’s hard. I’m sure Ronan is, too.

“He’d love it if you could help him out,” Ronan murmurs,
adding a soft, “but only if you want to.”

I sit up and take Connor in for a long moment, stroking
himself, his gaze still locked on me, still half-undressed, though my shirt has
fallen down. I like Connor, I’m attracted to him just as I am Ronan, and after
what he just did for me, I definitely feel like I owe him one.

Plus, I’m just curious about what it would be like to be
with him.

So I reach forward to wrap my hand around his erection,
reveling in the warm, smooth skin and hardness of it against my palm.

He lets go and allows me take over, lifting his hips off his
seat to push his pants down, just enough to uncover himself fully and give me a
good look. He’s about the same size as Ronan, only thicker.

“Abbi....” He groans.

“Yeah?” I tease softly.

He reaches up first to graze my cheek with this knuckles
affectionately, and then to hook his hand around the back of my head. He gently
begins pulling my head down toward his lap.

I haven’t done this since Henry.

Pushing that thought aside, I adjust myself onto my knees
and lean forward, wrapping my lips around his tip first, before pushing down,
filling my mouth with Connor. He gently thrusts his hips upward.

While I’m busy sucking off Connor, Ronan starts fussing with
my boots, untying them and yanking them off my feet. My pants and panties come off
next, until I’m in nothing but a t-shirt. Connor quickly slides that over my
head, forcing me to break for a moment so he can pull it off.

And now I’m completely naked in the maintenance truck with
Ronan and Connor. The rain is still coming down in sheets, but we’ve fogged up
the glass with our hot breath anyway.

“So fucking perfect. She’s unreal,” Connor murmurs with
adoration. Behind me, I hear the rustle of clothes—Ronan unfastening his belt
and then his pants—followed by the crinkle of a wrapper.

And then I feel him shifting at my back, adjusting my hips,
tugging my left leg off the bench so I’m on one knee and my hips are apart. Thank
God for the wide benches in this truck or there’s no way we’d be able to do
this in here.

He lines his cock up against my opening and I pull away from
Connor just in time to cry out as Ronan thrusts into me. How am I supposed to
do this for Connor while Ronan’s behind me doing that?

“You can do it, Abbi,” Connor says as if reading my mind,
pulling my head back down. This time I take all of him in, trying to focus on
him and not on the swollen cock that’s deep inside the other end of me. “Drag
your teeth a little. I like that.”

I do as asked and he groans.

We fall into a rhythm, of Ronan pushing into me and me
taking Connor into my mouth, moving in the same direction to avoid bumps. Connor’s
hands are gripping my head and Ronan’s hands are gripping my hips and I don’t
really know where to focus because if I think too much about what I’m
doing—with two guys—it’s all overwhelming, and I’m terrified that I’ll be
riddled with guilt once the physical high is over.

So I don’t let myself think. I let myself feel.

Connor begins thrusting his hips into my mouth. “Yeah,
that’s it. Take it all in. Damn.” He chuckles through his moans. “You don’t
gag, do you?”

As if to prove a point, I take him in even deeper, all of
him, spurring him on, his hips thrusting harder and faster, his fingers weaving
tight through my hair, all while Ronan keeps thrusting from behind.

A cry tears out of Connor’s lips as hot, salty liquid spurts
into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat in streams.

No sooner have I swallowed the last drop than Ronan pulls
out and sits back, yanking on my hips to force me back onto him. “Straddle me,”
he demands, helping me get my knee over his thighs. Sliding his hand in between
us, he lines himself up against my opening. Grabbing my hips on either side, he
pulls me down hard onto his cock.