Chapter 88: Feral Bond
"His knuckles bled. His control bled faster."
~ Rebel Beast
—-------------
"Did you miss me?"
That single voice had Aria’s eyes fluttering open. For one disorienting moment, she could only stare.
What the hell?
Maverick Nightshade was above her, one knee resting on the mattress as he leaned over, caging her in without quite touching her. The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth made it painfully obvious he was enjoying every second of her speechless reaction.
Aria’s pulse lurched.
"What are you doing here?"
Her thoughts had scattered in every direction, leaving her struggling to remember how to breathe, let alone speak.
"You don’t look quite happy to see me, Aria." Maverick lowered himself just enough for his face to hover close to hers, his gaze never leaving her own.
"I’m just saying..." she began, only for the words to falter.
Maverick’s wolfish smile deepened, as though he knew exactly what effect he was having on her.
Aria swallowed, forcing herself to hold his gaze despite the frantic pounding of her heart.
"You left me hanging last night." A crease formed between her brows as she gathered what little resolve she had left. "I believe your exact words were that we’d talk about it later."
"Well," she added, a spark of defiance slipping into her voice, "it’s later."
"And that," Maverick murmured, "is exactly why I’m here."
He lowered himself against her until the warmth of his broad body surrounded her. There was nothing hurried about the way he looked at her, as if he had come with only one purpose in mind.
"To make it up to you," he finished, never once breaking her gaze.
It wasn’t the fact that Aria was pinned on her back, completely trapped, that had her breath stuttering, but the fact that he was only in his briefs. Maverick’s hard, nearly naked body pressed down on hers while his strong thighs spread her wide open.
Just like his gorgeous face, the rest of him was just as flawless, her gaze wandering over the broad planes of his shoulders before tracing the taut sinew beneath his skin. Maverick wasn’t bulky, but there was no mistaking the strength in his frame, every line of his body honed with purpose.
"Or..." Maverick continued, his eyes hooded as he stared down at her, "do you want to talk?"
He added, "I like the other type of talking better." He punctuated his words by deliberately rolling his hips against hers.
Aria moaned the moment his undeniable evidence of desire made contact with her center. Fire swept beneath her skin while something warm coiled low in the pit of her belly.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore.
"No more talking," Aria said with a note of annoyance in her voice, pulling him down and fusing her lips with his.
Maverick smiled against her lips, looking every bit like the big bad wolf who had finally caught his prey. Aria sensed it and growled against his lips in warning. As punishment, she bit down hard on his lower lip, but the sting only seemed to spur him on.
In retaliation, Maverick caught her lower lip between his teeth and gave it a teasing tug until Aria had no choice but to relent.
As soon as she let him in, the kiss deepened naturally, unhurried and consuming, until everything beyond Maverick faded from Aria’s mind. Every part of her body felt as though it had been set on fire. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted more.
Aria ground her hips against his, needing to feel his body move above hers, while his tongue claimed hers, slow and relentless. It wasn’t until her vision began to swim that they finally broke away, panting heavily.
Maverick pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then trailed lower to her chin, his lips warm and unhurried against her skin. When he reached her throat, he lingered there, nibbling and tasting until a shiver worked its way through her body.
He kissed his way back up until his mouth found hers again, though this time the kiss was brief, before he broke away. Then he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes locked on her own.
"Do you trust me?" Maverick asked, his voice husky.
Aria nodded, unable to find her voice.
Something shifted in his gaze, pride and desire tangled together as he lowered his mouth to her chest, pressing kisses along her skin.
This time Aria felt his hands begin to travel, sliding slowly down the length of her body, and her heart kicked into a frantic rhythm. Everywhere he touched left a trail of fire behind, and she writhed beneath him, soft moans slipping from her throat before she could stop them.
Aria’s breath caught the moment Maverick’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of her bottoms. For a second, neither of them moved, his palm simply resting low on her stomach as if giving her a chance to stop him.
She didn’t.
When his fingers finally slipped through her wetness, a moan tore from Aria’s throat, muffled instantly by his mouth covering hers.
Aria hadn’t realized just how aroused she’d become until that moment, the truth of it slick against his touch, impossible to hide.
Maverick took his time. His fingers moved slowly at first, tracing small circles against her clit that had her hips twitching beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
He seemed to memorize every reaction, every hitch of her breath, adjusting his rhythm to whatever made her gasp hardest against his lips. Even so, he swallowed every sound she made, refusing to let her look away even as her eyes fluttered shut.
The pace built gradually, his fingers growing bolder as her hips began to move with him, chasing the feeling he was drawing out of her.
Aria’s moans grew louder, unrestrained now, her body arching into his hand as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter low in her belly.
She was mewling against his mouth, her fingers fisting in his hair, and still he didn’t rush her, drawing it out until she was trembling, right on the edge.
"Maverick," she gasped, barely recognizing her own voice, "please."
That was all it took. He picked up his pace, his fingers moving fast and relentless, and Aria’s body finally gave in.
Her back arched off the bed, her muscles drawing taut, and then she shattered beneath him, her cry swallowed by his kiss as pleasure crashed through her in waves, leaving her trembling long after it passed.
Aria stared at the ceiling for a moment, her mouth agape in wonder. So this was how it felt. It was so beautiful. If Maverick could make her feel so good with a finger, she could only imagine what it would feel like if he was inside of her.
As if her body couldn’t agree more, her core throbbed. She wanted him. But Gods, it was morning, and it was by sheer grace she had not woken her roommates up by now.
"Now that we’ve talked...." Maverick said, drawing her attention back to him. "I believe it’s time you should wake up."
"Excuse me?" Aria was confused as hell.
Then, like someone shoved her roughly down a pit, Aria’s eyes flew open, and she sat up with a startled gasp, the interior of her own room before her.
"What the hell?" Aria looked around, still rattled. Did she just have a sex dream about her professor?
She wiped her hand down her face. She swore to God it had felt so real. Her core tingled with need, and she was unbelievably wet.
Heaven help her.
Just to be sure, Aria looked around, and her room was locked tight, not that it had stopped the professor before. But still, she had been alone. At least for the duration of the night.
It had been a dream. A sex dream about Maverick Nightshade.
Meanwhile....
Maverick Nightshade jerked upright in bed, not because he was late for class, but because something had happened.
He stalked into the bathroom, and there, right in front of the mirror, his eyes were practically glowing.
Feral.
The wolf had connected with Aria. Early that morning, while she slept, some part of him had reached her, and he could still feel the echo of it thrumming beneath his skin, as real as if it had actually happened. His raging arousal stood as proof.
Those blazing eyes stared back at him from the glass, feral and knowing, mocking him with every flicker of gold.
He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant for any of it.
With a snarl, Maverick slammed his fist into the mirror. The glass shattered, spider-webbing outward before shards clattered into the sink, but he barely registered the sting across his knuckles.
All he could think about was Aria, the taste of her still phantom on his tongue, the sound of her moans still ringing in his ears. Maverick gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles bleeding, breath ragged.
This couldn’t happen again. But some primal part of him already knew it would.
His wolf, Feral, wanted his mate, and he would go to any length to ensure it.