Chapter 9- Fire and desire

Whimpering at the light flick of his tongue, Pearl shivered, her core tightening. Whether the beautiful lycan heard her or just felt her reaction to him, she didn't know, but his hands flexed on her hips, pulling her harder against him, and he groaned, the sound so low she felt more than heard it. She felt something else, like she had known him, like the man was so familiar, like his magic alone was a pull she couldn't resist. She felt this way with Ethan as well. The pull was weakening her senses, like she belonged to his arms, to feel his warmth and passion.

Odd. She thought to herself. But she was lost. She needed him. Wanted him.

Bewildered with desire, Pearl's hands shook slightly as she continued upward, outlining the straight line of his nose to a set of high cheekbones, then to thick, slashing brows.

Who are you, stranger?

Ultimately, burying her fingers in his hair, she let out a moan as the silken strands slid through her grip. Long and thick, they had to fall to at least his shoulders. Pearl's lashes quivered thinking about fisting that length while he moved above her. Her hands clenched involuntarily at the thought.

The man smirked.

His hips immediately snapped forward at the tug, forcing a cry from her lips and a swell of wetness from her waiting folds.

Pearl heard his deep expletive even over the deafening music. He liked it a little rough, enjoyed the way she pulled his hair, had heat rushing through her veins, heat that turned molten when she caught the flash of hunger tightening the fallen angel's features from beyond the dance floor. She saw his lips part on a hiss she swore she could almost hear.

The dark urges she kept such a tight leash on, urges that didn't give a fuck about what was wise or safe, urges that desired to lose the power inside her and take what she wanted, rose as if called by these men, swimming to the surface to fill her with a wicked kind of craving.

She told herself she was testing them, experimenting to see if they were helpless to her power or if they really were like her, but that was only a partial truth.

Giving in, just for a second, Pearl ever so slightly relaxed the metaphorical fist in her chest, allowing the barest wisp of power to leak out, and arched into the familiar stranger harder. Tightening a hand in his hair again, she pulled his mouth against her.

He went willingly, bending back over her, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her throat before he rasped seductively low, "You needed me… wanted me…. I can taste it. Should I have you, sweetheart? Should I slip my hand between those thick thighs and stroke your tight folds until you come for me?"

The thought of letting a stranger touch her like that in public should've sickened her. Perhaps it was those wicked desires, maybe it was the unthinkable intimacy between them or the intoxicating sense of security he wrapped around her like a blanket.

Or maybe she was just hungry and needy.

The voice that whispered from her lips barely sounded like her as she groaned, "Yesss. I want you... need you."

"As you command, little angel," he muttered, with the same desire.

Lips parting on a sharp exhale, Pearl fought to keep her eyes open and on the devilish blonde still watching her from the sidelines as the man behind her slid a big hand over her hip, across her thigh, then between her legs. "Ahhh!" Damn if the man did not hear her moan like she was about to explode.

Just that slight amount of force where she throbbed so needily had her crying out softly, the sound drowned out by the din of the pub. The expert way he circled his fingers over her, unerringly finding her swollen, throbbing bundle of nerves beneath the layers of leather and lace, had her knees going weak.

He caught her, holding her against him effortlessly, moving her body to the beat. Grinding together, they found a new rhythm, rocking forward and back, their hips in perfect sync as he shoved her against his hand before she pressed back against his cock, both giving as they took.

As if the tempo, that push and pull, was what it had been waiting for, the tiny wisp of magic she'd released curled around him like a long-lost lover.

The warm feeling unfolding in her chest, pursuing him out, was new and dazzling, but it didn't shock her after the way she'd reacted to him, thus far.

No, what shocked her, what had her pulse hammering, was when her magic touched him, something drifted from him to touch her in return.

Those tendrils of earth magic twined together, touching and taunting in an electrifying dance that amazed her. The caress of his lycan power against her own was unlike anything she'd ever felt, yet, it was everything she'd spent years waiting for. The pain of all those years spent alone, of all the time she'd searched for someone like her, broke apart as hope bloomed in her chest.

Heart in her throat, thighs slick with want, she moved with him, intoxicated with the feeling of his large body against her and the drugging power playing and mingling with hers. His hand never stopped, never slowed, and her pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.

She could barely focus past the heady bliss consuming her, but her gaze never strayed from the two men on the edge of the dance floor intently watching her fall apart one stroke at a time.

Her golden bad-lycan flicked his tongue across his bottom lip in a slow, savory caress, as though he could taste her essence in the air. Amber's eyes glittering, he captured his bottom lip between his teeth in a move that was full of pure, devious intent.

Behind him, the dark beast took a single step closer, his aura a menacing dare for any others in the club to glance her way. Even in the darkness, it would have been impossible for a spectator not to notice the sex in her eyes and the flush staining her cheeks, but he claimed that vision for himself and his friend, both devouring the sight of her writhing with the mysterious man at her back.

The beautiful stranger behind her teased her mercilessly, alternating between whisper light touches and a steadier pressure that drove her wild. Each brush of his strong fingers brought her closer to the edge until she was panting for it. Each gasp, each mewl she made was met with a compliant hum as the heat building low in her belly heightened.

"That's it, sweetheart," he practically purred. "Let me give you what you need. Come for me. Come for us. We want you."

The profound, sensual rhythm of his phrases thundered through her, firing straight to her core, adding to the unrelenting beat of his hand. His fingers worked magic over her needy flesh, and she ached for the feel of his skin on hers.

What would it feel like to have his fingers buried inside me?

Pearl ground her haven into his hand before rocking back into the thick length branding her lower back.

Or something much, much bigger?

Just the image of being bare before him, rocking against him in a completely different way had her pussy fluttering, intensifying the ache inside of her.

As though he could sense she was right on the edge, he cupped her in his big hand, grinding the heel of his palm over her clit in tight, quick circles as he curled his fingertips directly over her opening.