Wolf.e: A Dark MC Romance
Wolf.e: Chapter 10

I’m drunk. Drunker than I think I’ve ever been.

Is it a good idea to get this drunk in the face of something traumatic? Probably not, but I did anyway against the better judgement screaming in my head. The good thing about being this drunk is that it’s a lot easier to tell that voice to shut the hell up.

We’ve been dancing for hours, or so it feels like. I haven’t seen Wolfe or any of the other guys that were at our table for a while. I’m sweaty and I have to pee. Another drink wouldn’t hurt either.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I call to Layla over the music. She just smiles and gives me directions. I repeat them in my head so I don’t forget. Fourth door on the left… or was it right?

It’s loud now and there are people everywhere. I can’t make sense of this night or how I’m in this situation. I’ll just make it through, and tomorrow the familiarity of home will make me think straight and I can make an excuse to Layla to avoid her wedding. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going.

I stumble through the bar area in search of this elusive hallway to the bathroom. I smooth out my dress and hair, trying to walk as straight as possible. I’m either seeing things or crazy shit is happening around here. There is a woman laying on one of the pool tables as I walk by and another is taking a lime out from between her breasts with her teeth and people are making out… everywhere.

I watch a sitting man slide his large hands up under a women’s black leather skirt as she stands in front of him. He squeezes her ass. I can’t see him behind her body, only his big hands that seem to take up all of her flesh. He lifts her skirt right up over her ass and he slides her thong aside as she tips her head back and moans, absolutely zero shame. He pulls her closer and slides his legs between hers, two boot-clad feet holding her legs apart then shoves two fingers into her pussy right out in the open.

My mouth falls slack as I watch. I need to look away but I… don’t. I feel heat start to coil between my legs at the vision before me. My hand travels slowly up from my chest, over my throat to my lips, I try to feel the shock I know I should, but I don’t. This is wrong. I shouldn’t be watching them. But I simply can’t help the heat rushing over me.

The woman moans as he viciously thrusts his fingers into her, and I think I hear him tell her to “take them like a good little slut.” When his face comes into view over her shoulder, I’m shocked to see that it’s Kai. The sweet, clean cut looking one? He grins… and damn. I did not expect that.

“I’ve got another hand, new girl, if you’re interested,” he says as I blink, realizing I’m standing right in front of them, staring.

He chuckles as I begin to move quickly toward the only hallway I see and push through a swinging door to get to it. It’s quieter here and darker. Four doors down for the bathroom or five? It’s a little fuzzy. I decide to push open every door along the way. I’m mostly greeted with unkempt spaces that look like bedrooms. I find the bathroom mercifully. I probably couldn’t have held it much longer.

I wash my hands with what is actually really nice soap. I giggle.

Things you notice when you’re drunk for a thousand, please.

I fix myself up as best I can before heading back out to the hall. Miraculously, my makeup is still fairly intact. When I get into the dark hallway, I look both ways trying to remember which direction I came from. I hear moaning in the distance and the heat continues to flush through me. What the hell is wrong with me? Why is this torrid place turning me on like this?

I decide to go right and pass the first doorway. It has a licence plate screwed to the door that reads, “For those who like to fuck”.

Apparently, the people inside like to, judging by the sounds.

A light catches my eye in the otherwise dark hall. It’s coming from underneath a door at the end.

I don’t listen to my conscience, instead I listen to the little dark voice in my head telling me to go as I push it open. The space is large and spotless. A massive American flag with an eagle in the center graces the wall. It’s pinned straight and taut over a comfortable looking, worn in leather sofa. The floors are dark wood and shiny clean. It smells like cedarwood. There is a kitchen area at the back, it’s almost like a studio apartment of sorts. The other side of the wide open space has a solid wood divider.

I venture behind like I have permission, telling myself it’s perfectly fine that I’m snooping in this stranger’s space. A bigger than normal king-size bed made impeccably with dark gray bedding and ten feet of bookshelves lined with books catches my eye. My mouth falls open as I move toward them and take in some of the titles, running my fingers along the spines as I go. As a girl who always liked to read the classics, this is impressive.

The Art of War

Fire in The Belly

A collection of very old looking Machiavelli’s.

The Great Gatsby

The Beautiful and Damned

1984

And the shelves continue, lined with classic works of literature. I stand there running a finger over them taking in the other items. Photos catch my eye. They’re of Wolfe and Sean and other men in beige fatigues head to toe. Even their helmets are beige. I flip them over to see if there is any info on the back.

Field Lights 2009, Roaring Lion 2010, Eagles Trace 2012

All of them say 2nd Battalion 9th.

Missions?

Some are in casual settings; some look like they’re on-duty photos. I trace a line down Wolfe’s face in one of them, white t-shirt covered in dust, he’s so tan his skin looks unrecognizable, and he holds a very scary looking gun on a table in front of him like he’s cleaning it. He has a lot less ink in these photos than now, but that same emotionless gaze haunts his eyes.

The gaze of a man who’s seen it all.

I move on and pull a copy of The Great Gatsby out and skim my fingers over the weathered spine, flipping it over. The eyes in the solid blue cover pierce mine. I haven’t seen this edition before and I instantly know it’s very old. I open it and read the handwritten note on the inside cover

“To my fierce protector, always keep your world view bigger than our backyard,” and a heart under it.

“Why are you here?” a deep voice booms. The deep voice that sends shivers up the back of my neck.

I spin around and fall backward against the shelf, making it rattle.

Wolfe stands just ten feet away from me. He’s freshly showered, his hair loose, touching his ears in wet strands, and he’s wearing a clean black t-shirt and black jeans. He holds his cut in his hand. I take in his corded inked forearms, rippled with veins as he swipes his hair back.

I open my mouth, but I have nothing to say. There’s no way around this, I’m totally busted snooping in his room.

But honestly, who am I kidding? I knew the moment I saw the photos this was either his space or Ax’s. I’m still holding his book, for God’s sake.

“I asked what you’re doing here, I don’t ask twice,” he repeats, tossing his cut onto his bed in a slow intentional drop, his voice a deep velvet that both speeds my heart rate up and calms it all at the same time.

“I just… um, the light was on, I thought it was the way out,” I offer lamely as a flush creeps up my neck. “I mean, you’re the one who left the door wide open so it’s kind of your fault,” I add, trying to sound as confident as I can.

Wolfe moves toward me before I can say another word, closing the short distance between us in just two strides. I glance up at him towering over me. So close. Dangerously close.

He raises a hand, and I can’t help it, I flinch, afraid he might hurt me.

Wolfe studies my reaction with a hint of a smirk and embarrassment floods my chest, yet he continues, letting the back of his knuckles run over my cheekbone then down to the column of my throat. He’s touching me. I just met this man today and he’s touching me.

He pauses with his knuckles at the nape of my neck, feeling my thundering heartbeat under his fingers.

“There’s that smart mouth again. You use it freely, yet you’re terrified, little hummingbird.” His eyes meet mine as he flips his hand and grips my throat. His palm covers all of it and I understand instantly why he’s given me that name… he can see and feel my heart beating a million miles a minute. His fingers slide back into my hair, the pads of them trace my scalp before he grabs a fist full and pulls my neck taut, bringing my body forward to him so we’re flush, and I have nowhere to look but into his gray eyes.

Does he think I came here to have sex with him? Instinct takes over and I reach up and smack him in the face. The sound tells me it was hard, but I think it hurts me more than it hurts him, because he doesn’t even flinch.

He grips my hair tight enough for me to cry out. It burns like he’s ripping it out at the roots.

“And here I thought you were ready to shed this perfectly practiced little exterior… but now, I see. The hummingbird just wants to fight…” he growls, a sadistic light fills his eyes and for the first time I see emotion there.

I swing again, knowing he will just retaliate but I can’t help myself.

Some dark action inside me takes over. His hand slides back to my throat, encompassing all of it as my hand connects with his cheek in the same spot it just did moments ago. He squeezes only the sides of my throat so controlled and practiced I instantly see stars.

He’s right, I am terrified but something else is happening. Something I couldn’t understand if I tried. I squeeze my thighs together as my core beings to ache, even under his unpredictable touch.

It sends my blood racing, causing me to let out a tiny moan I have no control over. The feel of him touching me is everywhere all at once. The warmth from his lips comes so close to mine as he leans in, his cedarwood and spice scent mixed with fresh, clean soap singing to me.

“And he looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man,” Wolfe’s deep voice says evenly as he keeps his hand tight to my throat while grazing the knuckles of his free one down my body, over the peak of my hardened nipple.

I’m helpless and I shudder.

Wolfe doesn’t stay at my breast. He continues down over the curve of my waist. His fingers graze my forearm slowly until his hand wraps around the book I’m still holding. He pulls it from me roughly.

“Nick Carraway,” he says, holding up The Great Gatsby, as if I didn’t know that was the narrator’s name. He places the book back in its home on the shelf without loosening the grip on my throat.

“This isn’t a library. So when you realized this was my room, tell me why you stayed, Brinley?”

I hate that I love the way my name sounds rolling off his tongue.

“Please, just let me go, I’m sorry I came in here, I didn’t know it was your room. I saw the books… I was curious,” I say between gasps.

I begin to claw at his hold around my throat to no avail, claustrophobia setting in. I scratch at his forearms in my tipsy state as he holds me tight enough that it’s hard to breathe but not impossible.

All the while, the sensation of my pussy throbbing continues and I seriously question my sanity.

Those gray eyes are stormy now and dark staring into mine. I’m surprised when Wolfe’s grip loosens and his thumb begins to move back and forth over the center of my throat, sliding upward so it rests below my ear. The graze continues there.

“I think you knew it was my room the moment you came in and you wanted to be caught,” he says, coating me in truth from my head to my toes. The sensitive spot he’s touching with the calloused pad of his thumb in slow circles almost has my eyes rolling back.

“You think you should fight your desires. The world has been telling you your whole life you should fight, but you don’t want to. You want me to touch you like this.” His eyes roam over me as if he’s trying to understand me.

I watch as a decision is made, and he begins to slide his other broad palm up my outer thigh.

Wolfe is a man in control, his breathing is calm and even, but his normally light eyes are so dark I can’t help but lose myself in them. I’m totally at his mercy. I pant faster as his eyes continue their search.

“Having my eyes on you excites you,” he observes.

I clench my thighs together as his grip around my neck deepens and heat spreads through my core with every word, every touch. I fight it with everything in me. “Let me go.” I croak out a final attempt, my inhibitions lessen by the second.

“You can fight me if you want to, little hummingbird.” Wolfe tilts my head back, exposing the column of my throat to him. He brings his lips down to my pulse point and kisses me there, just once and I cave. Everything is heightened, the scruff of his beard and the contrast of his soft lips when they connect to my skin is like the static of an electric shock. I feel everything. My aching clit, my clothing against my skin, the air around me, startlingly cool as the warmth of his mouth dissipates, and his delicious breath draws me in.

“Fight,” he commands in an even deeper baritone. “And I promise, it will only make your pleasure sweeter.”

We lock eyes for only a second as I decide, a flurry of activity and dark fantasies takes over without a thought in my mind. I try to knee him, but he blocks me and winds his hand back in my hair. I smack him again, but he lets go of my hair and quickly lifts both my wrists overhead gripping me one-handed with the same strength he held my throat. I’m no physical match for him but I have to try, don’t I?

His words settle with me… I’m fighting because I’m told to.

Because I’ve always been told a man should earn the right to touch me like this. Wolfe is right about that, but he’s also right when he says I want him to touch me.

I do.

Holding my hands hostage, Wolfe uses his heavy knee to push my legs apart and presses his body into mine. The wood of the bookshelf bites into my shoulder blades.

“You can pretend you don’t want me. But your body tells a different tale. See…” He trails a thumb to my throat where my pulse continues to hammer thunderously. The inability to move is too much. I squeeze my thighs without thought around his leg, it offers me a slight friction that makes my pussy ache even more. He bends down and lets his teeth graze the skin of my neck.

I hear the lowest groan come from him as he mutters, “fuck.”

I whimper in response, my chest heaves with heavy breath, pushing my breasts right into him with every inhale.

“Your heart flutters like this whenever I’m near you. You want me to slide my hand right under this dress.”

Do I?

“You want to find out how much faster I can make this fluttering heart beat.”

“Fuck you!” I spit out as best I can, the word I never really use feeling foreign on my tongue, but I have no hands left to claw him with.

His skin has scratches on it from my nails and his cheek is red, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.

“My heart beats faster because… I’m afraid of you,” I say honestly, looking into his eyes, hoping he will feel badly enough to let me go and wishing he wouldn’t all at the same time.

“I know,” he growls. “I fucking love it.”

“Please…” I whimper, half in ecstasy, half in terror.

This man gets off on scaring me and I have no idea what he’s capable of.

I stare up into his violent eyes, his godlike face seeming completely devoid of empathy. He’s a hunter whose only purpose is to trap his prey, and right now his prey is me.

“I bet you’ve always done everything right, haven’t you?” Wolfe asks as his free hand slides to the zipper at the back of my strapless dress.

‘Y-yes,” I stutter.

“Did you know humans are the only species that relates permission to anything sexual? For every other species that roams this earth, it is simply taken.”

He pulls my zipper roughly, and before I even realize what is happening my dress pools at my feet.

“Desire and primal need are the only rules that are followed,” he says.

I gasp as my nipples pebble even more when the cool air hits them. This earns a growl from Wolfe before he dips his head and pulls one into his hot mouth, toying with it against his tongue. I want to fight but…

Holy shit. That feels so good.

I lean my head back against the bookcase and let out a ragged moan, I absentmindedly push my hips toward him.

“It’s quite simple. You just let your body take what it wants.” Wolfe’s teeth graze my nipple before his tongue rolls over it and I quiver beneath his lips.

“You don’t know… what I want…” I pant out. He moves to my other breast and plays with that nipple in his mouth for a moment and I may combust with a pleasure I’ve never felt.

“But I do…I already know you.” His lips trail over me as one hand still holds my wrists and the other circles my waist, gliding over all the skin he can manage.

“You want to know what it’s like to be properly handled by a man. A man who can satisfy every dark craving you’ve ever had but have never admitted.”

“I’ve had men that can do that,” I lie in pathetic defense. My words come out garbled and trail off in a moan as his lips skim my breast and his tongue flicks against the peak of my nipple. My drunken courage only seems to piss him off. Wolfe bites down on my nipple and I cry out as tiny zaps of pleasure rush my core.

It hits me as I angle my hips closer to him without shame that this is what I want. What I always wished for with Evan, but I know now Evan wasn’t capable of this. I never thought any man was…

“No, little hummingbird, you haven’t, because you only just met me today.” He moves his head down to the skin beneath my earlobe, my hands start to lose sensation under his clasp. Wolfe takes his time to breathe me in, running his nose along the column of my throat. “It’s not wise to test that smart mouth with me. I’m already testing every bit of fucking patience I have with you in my space,” he snarls, biting down hard on my earlobe.

I whimper in pain but outwardly, it sounds like pleasure.

“Pain doesn’t scare you…” It isn’t a question, it’s an assessment, but I don’t miss the tone of surprise that lines his voice. No, pain does scare me, I want to say in protest, but I don’t. My body isn’t listening to my mind like it should and right now my body is winning, hands down.

Wolfe’s hand slides over the thin cotton of my panties and with a flick of a wrist he adds a slap to my pussy. I must be having an out of body experience because I moan again, loudly.

“You get off on it,” he growls, his brow knotted in frustration,

“Why does that make you angry?” I ask breathlessly, silently begging for more.

“Because I want to do bad things to you.Very bad things. And knowing you won’t try to stop me? It’s dangerous for you.”

Using his boot to kick my feet apart even wider, Wolfe holds me in place with his powerful body. His hardened cock presses against my hip, it feels just as big as his attitude portrays and it ignites me as I imagine it filling me in ways I’ve never been filled.

If I could use my hands, I’d slide them under his shirt just to see what this kind of man feels like. Just once.

Wolfe tears my flimsy panties off like they’re made of tissue paper in one swift action, and I gasp, standing fully naked before this man I’ve just met, while he remains fully clothed, in his element, in control.

He holds the power.

Call it fear, call it alcohol, whatever you will, I’m so wet I’m dripping down my thighs.

“Please,” I whine, then moan again, angling my hips toward him, not really knowing what I’m asking. The moment the word leaves my lips the faintest growl rumbles through his chest pressed against me.

“The fucking sounds you make, you might as well be asking me to eat you alive.” Wolfe drops his lips to my neck, my collarbone, my shoulders, my breasts, trading between biting me and ravaging me with open mouthed kisses. As his palm slides further down my belly to the apex of my thighs, I wait with anticipation like putty in his hands.

Finally, the pad of his middle finger finds my clit and what little fight I had left to get away from him dies.

Instead, I close my eyes, push myself closer, let my body take over and beg him for more.