Of Wolves and Magic

Chapter Six: Gentleman

Deidre

“There’s nothing gentlemanly about me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, my voice coming out a little more breathy than I’d intended. My eyes were fixed on his, like I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

Luckily, I didn’t want to.

He extended his hand to me, all his attention on me as though the rest of the bar had stopped existing. “Come with me, and you’ll find out.”

I’d have to have been be stupid not to understand what was on offer. Young me would have lost her mind if she knew that one day, I’d be sitting here with Grant Hawthorne.

But I was a kid back then, and my stupid little crush on the town delinquent didn’t change the fact that we were adults now, and even if he just threw a scumbag out of the bar for harassing me, he was still an asshole when I tried to talk to him this morning.

Narrowing my eyes, I shifted on the bar stool, holding my ground as though it didn’t take every shred of willpower in my body. “Why should I?”

“You shouldn’t.”

But his hand was still outstretched, and god help me, I took it.

He nodded toward the bartender, slapping some cash down on the bar before hopping off the stool, guiding me through the small crowd.

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace private,” he grunted, not even turning back to look at me as he pulled me down a deserted corridor.

When he pulled me into the bathroom, I realized what a total lapse in dignity all of this was. I was about to let this asshole f**k me in the bathroom of a small town bar—I barely even knew him.

But when his lips met mine and my back was shoved up against the door I didn’t care about saving face, and I reached for the doorknob to lock the door.

“Oh f**k,” I whimpered when I felt the hardness in his jeans press against me, trying to get a feel for the size.

Grant Hawthorne was a big man, and it didn’t seem like that part of him would be the exception.

His hand slid up my thigh as he caught my bottom lip between his teeth and his fingers ran along the black cotton of my panties beneath my dress. A growl built deep in his chest as he rested his forehead against mine.

“You’re already wet for me,” he rumbled, hooking a finger through my panties and letting them snap back against my cunt. “Did you come here looking to get f****d tonight?”

“No, but—” My words died in a gasp when his hand dove under my panties and he slipped two thick fingers into me, making me cling to his shoulders as he curled them against that sweet spot inside of me. “Grant!”

“Shh,” he scolded, pressing a kiss to my temple before nipping at my ear. “Wouldn’t want anyone at the bar to hear us, would we?”

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I shook my head, my knees already trembling from the delicious friction of his fingers. It had been so long since anyone touched me like that—I almost didn’t care who heard us, as long as he kept making me feel good.

Right when I felt that coil in me about to snap, he withdrew his fingers, making me let out a broken whine of disappointment.

He had the audacity to laugh, taking a step back to stare into my flustered and needy eyes as he licked my essence clean from his fingers with a satisfied hum. “You were close, weren’t you?” He teased, as though I couldn’t see just how hard he was, even through the thick denim of his jeans.

My lips curved into a sneer as I stood, squirming from the ruined orgasm. “You’re an asshole.”

“And yet . . . ” He backed me against the door again, but this time he grabbed me by the hips, lifting me up with my legs around his waist and planting my ass down on the sink counter. “You’re letting me do this anyway.”

Words failed me as his fingers caught the waistband of my panties. He didn’t break eye contact even once as he slid them down my legs, before stuffing them into his pocket. “I’m keeping these.”

“Like hell—”

He cut my protest off with a kiss, making me taste myself on his tongue as he shoved my dress up around my hips. I expected to hear the zipper of his jeans come down, but instead, he kissed down my neck, sinking lower until his head was between my thighs.

“You’ve got a pretty p***y, Deidre,” he all but growled, pressing a kiss against my inner thigh before biting down on the soft flesh.

With a yelp, I slid my fingers through his hair on instinct, and he only chuckled before leaning in to drag his hot tongue across my c**t.

My teeth sank into my bottom lip in an effort to hold back a moan as his fingers entered me again, curling in a beckoning motion.

“I might let you come this time,” he murmured against my most sensitive skin, flicking the tip of his tongue out to toy with the pink bud. “If you say please.”

I wanted to tell him to f**k off with that attitude, but instead I found myself whimpering, “Please,” like a dog begging for scraps.

“You must really want this,” he mocked me, but true to his word he sucked my c**t between his lips, humming his approval as he pushed me over the edge, making my cunt squeeze around his fingers.

Despite my best efforts, a pathetic strangled moan slipped past my lips, and it only seemed to spur him on more. I tugged at his hair as stars filled my eyes, the overstimulation turning the sheer pleasure almost painful. “Grant!”

“What?” He growled, his lust-blown eyes holding mine in captive audience. “Too much?”

All I could do was nod, and the corner of his lip tugged into a grin as he pulled me down from the counter. My knees shook as I stood, and I had to catch myself against the sink for balance, but I didn’t need to support myself long.

He spun me around, bending me over the sink as he caged me to it with his big body. “Gonna f**k you now, if that’s okay with you.”

I thought he was taunting me until his lips went to my ear, grunting out a deep and raspy, “Is that okay?” And I realized he was actually asking for my consent as though he hadn’t just finger f****d me half to death.

“Yes,” I forced out, wriggling my hips against his. “God, yes.”

“Good,” he growled against my neck as he unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his hips.

My lips parted in a quiet gasp when I felt his c**k drag against my thigh. He was bigger than I imagined, and my teeth sank into my bottom lip in anticipation as he pressed the tip against me.

Even while biting my lip, I whimpered as his c**k stretched me, almost too much for my overstimulated cunt.

“f**k,” he rasped against my neck. He wove his fingers though my hair and yanked my head back, bringing me face to face with my ruined expression in the mirror as he thrust into me at a steady rhythm. “Look at what a mess you are.”

The roughness of his hand in my hair and the way his hips snapped into mine sent me spiraling into the throws of ecstasy, and he only f****d me harder when my cunt squeezed his c**k.

“f**k!” I cried, bracing myself with one hand on the mirror and the other gripping the sink.

“Yeah, right behind you,” he grunted as he grabbed my hips hard enough that I was sure I’d have bruises in the morning, rutting into me like a feral beast.

Each of his thrusts were punctuated with a breathy moan falling from my lips. It was too good, too much, but every time I felt like I couldn’t take anymore, I did.

His name tore itself from my throat as he came deep inside of me, sinking his teeth into my shoulder while he held me tight against him.

We stayed like that for a while, neither us even attempting to move as his c**k slowly softened inside of me.

I could practically hear my own heart beating, as silent and still as we were, until suddenly he pulled out and backed away from me, yanking up his pants before heading out the door without another word.

All I could do was stare after him, feeling the evidence of our pleasure running down my thigh.

“Bastard.”