Grace of a Wolf

Chapter 148: Grace: Choked

"Ow!" I yelp, my hand snapping up to fist a handful of his hair and jerk his head away. "What the fuck?!"

Pain slices through the sexual haze, sharp and clarifying as a bucket of ice water, even as energy explodes between us. Threads multiply into cables, into ropes, into a goddamn tsunami of power pouring out.

My hand flies to my neck, feeling wetness. When I pull my fingers away, they’re spotted with blood.

"Did you just fucking bite me?!" I hiss.

He doesn’t answer, just groans against my shoulder.

The bite throbs, hot and electric. I can feel my heartbeat in it, pulsing in time with the arcane current, and try desperately to grab onto the energy between us again. But it’s too much.

Caine makes a sound that’s more animal than man, his entire body going rigid above me.

"Don’t. Move." His voice is ragged, barely recognizable. "Not an inch."

I open my mouth to sass him back, to tell him to go to hell for biting me, but the words die in my throat as I realize he’s fumbling with the button of his jeans.

Oh. noveldrama

Oh.

My eyes go wide as he pushes his jeans low enough to grip himself—his hand tight around the hard, flushed length.

It’s bigger than I expected—not that I’ve spent time thinking about it. Much. Sometimes...

My core clenches hard at the sight of him, arousal slamming back through me with brutal force. But panic bubbles up alongside it, and I squeak, "Caine, I don’t have that much control yet—"

He doesn’t seem to hear me. His hand moves—slow, rough strokes, like he’s trying to hold himself together more than chase release. His face is tight with strain.

"I’m not going to—" His eyes shut, jaw clenched. "Fuck.

When he looks at me again, it’s like something ancient is clawing behind his eyes.

"I’m not in control anymore, Grace." The words sound torn from him. "Get out. Before I hurt you."

I should listen. I should absolutely listen to the massive predator telling me he’s about to lose control.

Instead, I just stare—caught by the way his muscles ripple with each movement. The flush beneath his skin. The way his abs tighten with each harsh breath.

My hand moves on instinct, fingers brushing the hot, sensitive tip.

Caine jerks at the contact like I shocked him, a growl tearing free from deep in his chest.

"Fuck!"

The arcane surge slamming into me from that single point of contact is like mainlining lightning. It rockets through my system, pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

I whimper, but I don’t pull away. I can’t. My body craves this contact like a drug, even as my mind fractures under its force.

His cock throbs against my palm. Hot. Velvet over steel. My fingers wrap around it instinctively.

My rational brain flickers briefly back online, reminding me that I need to get this surging energy under control before it consumes us both.

Focus. Squeeze the energy. Compress the threads. Control it.

I concentrate hard, trying to throttle the golden flow with my mind, to regulate the power crackling between us.

At the same time—because I’m an idiot with zero multitasking ability—my hand tightens around his cock.

The effect is catastrophic.

Caine’s entire body goes rigid. The tendons in his neck stand out like cords. His jaw locks. His thighs tremble. His free hand clamps around my wrist in a bruising grip.

"Grace—" He gasps. "What are you doi—"

The rest of the sentence dissolves into a snarl as his hips jerk forward involuntarily, driving his cock through my grip.

Wait.

Wait.

Am I choking his dick with magic?

"Caine—!"

His only response is a wrecked, obscene sound. Something between a groan and a growl, something you’d only hear in bed. The kind of sound to make your ears go red and your heart beat a little faster.

I start to pull away, suddenly panicked that I’ve pushed too far—but it’s already happening.

His body locks up, every muscle straining as his hand clamps tight around mine. A hot rush spills across my belly, splashing my fingers, the hem of my shirt—every pulse of it pushing another wave of energy through the bond.

His cock jerks in my grip as a violent burst of arcane power slams between us, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I gasp, my entire body jolting with the echo of it. Sensation flares—hot, sharp, overwhelming. My back bows off the bed, legs trembling as I shake beneath him, the magic crackling across my skin like ungrounded power.

For a moment, neither of us moves. We’re frozen—Caine braced above me, panting hard, and me... sprawled out, wide-eyed, covered in heat, heart pounding, and still aching so badly it hurts.

Most. Awkward. Ending. Ever.

I literally choked his dick into orgasm.

Choked it.

Hello, inexperience. thy name is Grace.

I blink up at him. "Um... so..."

He groans, dropping his forehead to rest against mine for a brief second. "That wasn’t how I wanted to..."

The room spins suddenly. My head feels like it’s filled with too much oxygen. I can still feel my core pulsing, desperate for release, but the dizziness is overwhelming.

Too much.

We did way too fucking much

Shit.

"You need to go." Panic rises in my voice. "Right now. Caine. NOW."

I shove at his chest, panicked urgency lending strength to my arms, before he even has a chance to react.

Caine jerks back, stumbling over his half-lowered jeans and crashes to the floor with a thud, shaking the entire camper.

I try to scramble up to help him, but vertigo hits me hard. The room tilts sideways and I tumble sideways, sprawling in an undignified heap.

Heavy footsteps pound toward the bedroom door, and I can hear Fenris growling. "Is everything okay?" Ron’s voice calls out, concerned.

"Everything’s fine!" My voice comes out as a panicked squeak-shriek.

I whip my head toward Caine, hissing, "Did you lock the door?!" even as the world spins around me.

"Fenris is guarding it." He sits up with a resigned sigh, then zeroes in on me with concern. "Are you okay?"

I flop my forehead onto the bed with a groan, then laugh.

"I’m fine." The laugh transitions into a sigh. "Dizzy, but fine."

My hips wiggle restlessly against the bed, my body still insanely aroused despite the arcane overload. Suddenly, the bed dips on either side of me. Caine’s hands are there as he leans over me, not touching, but close enough to make my entire body spark again.

I peek up—then jerk upright when I realize his dick is still hanging in the breeze. And I’m covered in...him.

My head collides with his chin hard enough to make my vision swim. He stumbles back with a soft curse.

"Shit," I groan, grabbing the back of my head. Caine rubs at his jaw, eyeing me warily.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"There’s nothing to apologize for. I was in your space."

I laugh awkwardly, not knowing where to look. The whole situation is... awkward.

"You didn’t come," Caine says, the bluntness of the observation making my eyes snap to his.

Of course he’d say it like that.

Heat rushes to my face. I’m still physically aroused—my body thrumming with need—but the emotional tidal wave has receded enough for embarrassment to take hold.

"It’s fine," I mutter, staring fixedly at the ceiling. Anywhere but at his dick I’d choked into orgasm.

Caine tilts his head, studying me with unsettling intensity. "I can’t touch you anymore, but there’s no rule saying you can’t touch yourself, right?"

My whole body goes rigid, even as my core tightens. "Excuse me?"