Torn

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Charlotte's POV

I woke up to butterfly kisses on my neck.

I could say that I was too mad to let him kiss me, that I wanted to make him stop. But I didn't. He was too good. It felt too good. So I arched my neck, silently demanding more.

He shifted just a little on the bed to kiss me properly but I wouldn't let him.

"I didn't ask for a proper kiss, did I?" I wasn't really asking here either and he gave me a sheepish smile in apology.

Slowly, the kissing resumed on my neck. It was almost like he was worshipping it with slow, thorough attention.

"I always dreamed I would mark you here" Mason mumbled, licking the mark Dean left. I had to control my breathing, not wanting to grace him with a moan. But fuck, it felt so good. It was like he was licking my cl!t. I didn't know that it would feel this way.

I mean, it seems terribly designed that every time I get touched there, I'd feel as if I were being touched somewhere else! The goddess had some explaining to do.

Either way though, it was hard to complain right now.

"You marked me somewhere better" I told him, turning over onto my back and spreading my legs wide. He grinned when he saw what I was getting at and happily lowered himself down.

I didn't bother getting dressed when I came up to bed. So he just started lapping me up like a dog, fingers gently digging into his mark on my inner thigh.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't stand looking at him.

You're digging yourself in a bigger hole by letting him do this, Cris half sighed, half moaned.

How could I possibly get in a bigger hole when it comes to him?

It was a rhetorical question. We both knew that.

We were way too far gone for this boy. Even if his ability to commit was less than ideal.

A pair of lips started to lazily suck at my breast. Guess Dean woke up.

"Good morning" a smirk was planted on his lips. Of course it was a good morning. I could happily wake up like this every morning of my life.

I didn't bother replying. I just yanked his hair to get him closer, moaning into his mouth now that he was up.

He growled, not liking the treatment as much as Mason undoubtedly would, but kissing me with fervor anyway. It was like he was trying to devour me whole. It was great.

This was great.

So why did I feel so wrong about it?

I jerked up and away from Mason as he bit into his mark on my thigh, squealing into Dean's mouth. He didn't let me go, not even for a quick breath, and I felt like I was drowning.

I shuddered though, coming to my release much too quick and unexpectedly.

"I need a shower" I gasped when Dean finally let me go. I must have smelled like dead roadkill by now. But he shook his head and stuck his head on my neck, nibbling around his mark.

My eyes practically rolled back into my head.

"You've never smelled more like yourself" he murmured.

Well, how would he know that? Cris asked. It was a dumb question, obviously it was because I had been sweating, but she's just a smartass.

"Lottie" a whimper turned my head. Mason was practically panting, waves of wanting rolling off him. I positioned myself a little better, more away from Dean though he didn't move an inch from his spot at my neck. Still on my back but freed from overbearing wolf, I again spread my legs for him.