Bearing the Ruthless Alpha's Twins novel · Chapter 2 of 32
Chapter 2: The Boathouse
Torin drops the act and says his wolf goes quiet around her; they sleep together in the boathouse and he asks her to stay till morning.
"Where's Briony?" I asked.
"Inside, with a drink in her hand and about forty people around her."
Torin did not move off the step.
"I told her to give you the address and I'd take it from there," Torin said.
"You told her?"
"I asked her to bring you."
My face went hot.
"So this is another joke," I said.
"Your friends are in the trees, and when I take one more step they all jump out."
"There's nobody in the trees."
He said it flatly.
"Listen for yourself."
I listened.
There was music from the house, and frogs from the lake, and no one else.
"Then why?" I said.
"Why the locker, why the hair, why two years of it?"
His jaw worked.
"Come with me and I'll tell you," he said.
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Then I'll say it here."
He took one step down so we were level.
My hands went warm in my sleeves, and I knew he could smell what that did to me.
"When I'm near you, my wolf goes quiet," Torin said.
"All day he fights me, and in the hallway with you he stops.
"I hated it, so I made you leave.
"It didn't work."
My mouth was dry.
"That's the worst apology I have ever heard," I said.
"I'm not apologizing yet."
The corner of his mouth moved.
"I'm telling you why I can't stay away from you."
I should have gone back down the path.
I stood on the step with my heart pounding and looked at his mouth.
"Show me the boathouse, then," I said.
He took my hand, and neither of us said anything on the walk down to the water.
The boathouse was dark and smelled of cedar and lake.
Torin shut the door behind us and stood with his back against it, breathing hard.
"You can still leave," he said.
"I know."
I crossed the floor and took his shirt in both fists.
"Don't talk," I said.
He kissed me.
It was not like the kiss in the hallway.
It was slow at first, his hand at my jaw, his thumb pushing my glasses up to my hair, and then it was not slow.
He turned me against the wall and I felt the whole long length of him.
I pulled his shirt up and he dragged it over his head and dropped it.
His chest was hot under my palms.
"Your hands," he said against my neck.
"They're always freezing, and tonight they aren't," I said.
"Then you're doing it."
"I know I am."
He undid the zipper of my dress with one hand and pushed it off my shoulders.
It fell around my feet.
I stood there in my underwear, with nothing between me and him but two thin pieces of cotton, and I did not cover myself.
He looked at me for a long time.
"God, Ingrid," he said.
"You've been hiding that under a cardigan for two years," he said.
"You never asked to see it," I said.
"I'm asking now."
I took off my bra and let it drop.
He made a low sound in his throat and put his mouth on my breast.
I grabbed his hair and arched against him.
His hand slid between my legs and found me wet already, and he groaned into my skin.
"That's for me?" he said.
"All of it's for you."
He lifted me and carried me to the pile of sailing cushions along the back wall, and laid me down.
He pulled my underwear off and knelt between my knees.
His mouth was hot and unhurried on my inner thighs, and then it was on my clit and I cried out and had to bite my own wrist.
He licked slowly, then faster when my hips lifted, and he held them down with both hands and did not let me move.
"Torin," I said.
"What?"
"Fuck me."
"Not yet," he said.
He slid two fingers inside me and curled them, and kept his mouth where it was.
I came hard, with my back off the cushions and his name in my mouth.
He kept going until I shoved at his shoulders, and then he kissed his way up my body and smiled against my mouth.
I could taste myself on him.
"Now," I said.
"Now what?"
"You know what."
I reached down and opened his jeans and took his cock in my hand.
It was thick and hot and hard, and he shuddered when I stroked it.
"Ingrid," he said, and his voice cracked.
"Look at me."
I looked.
His eyes had gone gold.
He pushed into me slowly, an inch at a time, and I gasped at how full it was.
"Okay?" he said through his teeth.
"If you stop, I'll kill you."
He laughed, a short rough laugh, and then he stopped laughing.
He pulled out and drove back in, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on.
He fucked me hard, and I wanted it harder.
I raked my nails down his back and he groaned and went deeper, his forehead against mine, his breath ragged on my lips.
"Mine," he said.
It was not a joke, and it was not a line.
I felt something in my chest answer him, strong and sure.
"Yours," I said.
He reached between us and rubbed my clit in tight circles while he thrust, and I broke apart a second time, clenching around him.
"Fuck, Ingrid, fuck."
He came with his teeth in my shoulder and his hips jerking, and I held him through all of it.
After, we lay on the cushions with our legs tangled and the lake making small sounds against the dock.
His heartbeat slowed under my cheek.
He pulled a blanket over us and stroked my hair, and I let him.
"I've been awful to you," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"I'm going to fix it."
"How?"
"Starting tomorrow, in front of everyone." His arm tightened.
"Stay till morning, Ingrid."
"Okay," I said.
I fell asleep with my face against his chest, believing every word.
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