<h4>Chapter 132: Jack-Eye: Her Game (I)</h4>


    <strong>JACK-EYE</strong>


    She looks at me, lips parted, eyes blown wide with want. "Then wash it out for me."


    The invitation hangs between us, filthy and explicit. I know exactly what she wants from me. She wants my cock down her throat until she’s sobbing. Wants me to fuck her mouth until she can’t taste him anymore, until there’s nothing left of Thom’s magic or his presence.


    And Goddess help me, I want it too. Have been dreaming about it since I first caught her scent. The thought of sliding between those sharp little teeth, watching those cat eyes water as she takes me deep—it’s been torturing me since Iid eyes on her. I hated watching her do it to another man. Hated everything about it.


    But giving Lyre exactly what she wants? Too easy. She’s testing me. Everything with her is a game, a challenge, a way to see if I’ll break. And I refuse to fail.


    My mind wanders to a ridiculous ce. I imagine grabbing her wrist, dragging her into the bathroom, and brushing her damn teeth. Slow and condescending, standing behind her at the sink mirror, watching her furious eyes as I move the brush over every tooth.


    "Minty fresh," I’d say with a smug grin, right before she’d spin around and punch me in the balls.


    The image is so absurd that my lips twitch, amusement flickering briefly across my face.


    Lyre’s eyes narrow immediately. Nothing gets past her. "What are you thinking?"


    "Nothing," I lie, my voice a little too casual.


    Her pupils contract slightly at the obvious bullshit. She doesn’t want jokes. She wants control—my control—over her. My wolf growls, the sound vibrating through my chest. I’ve been sucked into her orbit, drawn in by her arousal, by the strange pull she has over us both. The promise of dominating the woman who scares my wolf to death is impossible to resist.


    I bend down, my grip firm on her hair as I kiss her—upside down, her head tilted back against me. My mouth consumes hers, tongue pushing inside without hesitation. I taste her, explore her, deep and slow, cleaning every crevice. My tongue slides against the roof of her mouth, behind her teeth, intentionally thorough.


    It’s filthy. I love it.


    When she tries to catch and suck on my tongue, I bite her bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp. "Open," I growl against her lips.


    She hesitates—always testing, always pushing. I reach down and pinch both nipples, hard and sudden. Her back arches off the bed as a moan spills from her mouth, giving me exactly what I want.


    I don’t stop kissing her until her mouth is thoroughly fucked. By the time I pull back, her lips are swollen and red, her eyes ssy with arousal. I run my fingers over her mouth possessively, tracing the outline of her lips. Then I press two fingers past them, pushing in slowly.


    She epts them immediately, tongue curling around my knuckles as she sucks. The wet heat of her mouth sends jolts straight to my cock.


    She takes them like she’s starving, her cheeks hollowing with every suck. The heat of her mouth draws a hiss from between my teeth, and I have to close my eyes for a second—just a second—or I might lose the plot entirely.


    I want to keep her like this, mouth full and obedient, tongue flickingzy circles like she’s savoring it. She’s not just teasing me back. She’s showing me she <i>knows</i> what she’s doing.


    "I had a different kind of washing out in mind," she murmurs between licks, her voice a purr of challenge.


    "I know you did." My wordse out like sandpaper against my throat; it’s dry and parched from all this damn want I’m holding back.


    Without warning, I jerk back and flip her over in one fluid motion. Shends with a startled gasp that quickly transforms into a moan as one of my arms hooks beneath her hips, lifting her ass into the air. My other hand yanks a pillow from the head of the bed and shoves it underneath her, elevating her hips perfectly.


    Her legs spread for me instinctively—no hesitation, no shyness. She’s dripping, flushed pink and so wet I can see it gleaming on her inner thighs. The sight of her disyed like this, offered up and waiting, makes my wolf howl with primal need.


    Lyre shudders beneath me, all that wless skin begging for my hands, my mouth, my teeth. Even my wolf whines with the need to im her. And fuck, it would be so easy to give in.


    But I don’t. I won’t.


    Instead, I trace two fingers along the slick outer edges of her pussy. No pration. Just a teasing brush, barely there. Just enough to feel how wet she is without giving her what she wants.


    Her hips buck involuntarily, chasing my touch. I pull back so she can’t get pressure where she needs it, and she makes a frustrated little sound in the back of her throat. So fucking adorable.


    "Problem?" Restraint has me sounding like a chain-smoker of fifty years, and I hope it doesn’t turn her off. But it’s hard, damn it.


    She scowls at me, her slitted eyes shing with impatience. Her breath catches when my fingers pass close to her entrance again, circling without dipping inside.


    "You’re stalling," she says, trying to sound bored. But her voice trembles on thest syble.


    "Not stalling." I drag my fingers up one side of her slit, then down the other. So close, but never where she wants me. "Taking my time."


    My cock throbs, achingly hard, desperate to rece my fingers. To sink into her slick heat until she’s gasping, until those sharp little teeth are sinking into her own lip as shees undone beneath me. But I’ve spent my life learning restraint. Caine might be all impulsive instinct, but I’m the one who has to think with his brain instead of his wolf.


    And right now, my brain knows giving Lyre exactly what she’s asking for is the surest way to lose this battle before it begins.


    I have to break <i>her</i>, while letting her think she’s breaking <i>me</i>.