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He was affected. The same as I was.

I looked at his jaw, neck, and finally his chest. I felt that nausea rise back up in me. How the hell had I forgotten he was covered in blood?

Was I so starved for any kind of attention that common sense and my survival instinct had suddenly taken a back seat?

He held his paw out to me and I stared down at it, but didn’t make a move to give him my hand, which he obviously wanted.

He gave a frustrated growl and was the one to take my hand then, his touch still gentle though. Wolf held my palm in his and the sheer size difference between us… amongst other things, startled me all over again.

Everything about Wolf was magnified.

As a bigger, curvier girl my entire life, I’d never felt “tiny”. Not that I ever wanted to be. This was how I was made, and I embraced the hell out of it. But right now, looking up at this seven-foot beast, I felt minuscule. Breakable.

And why did I feel turned on because of that?

I let him lead me through the forest, the night so thick that it was impossible for me to see anything. So I had to trust him, even if I had no reason to.

We didn’t walk very far from the mouth of the cave before the sound of babbling water broke the silence. Although I felt exhaustion over everything, when we broke through the clearing and I could see a small trickling waterfall that led to a generouspool of water, which then continued downstream, some of my tiredness faded.

My body ached from running and trying—and failing—to get away from Wolf. On top of the fact I’d fallen a few times in the chase and was pretty sure I had some nasty bruises hidden under my clothes, I felt this almost serene sense being out here.

I wasn’t afraid despite the thick darkness surrounding us, and predators nearby. How could I when Wolf stood a foot from me and all I could keep remembering was him telling me he’d destroy anything that thought to hurt me?

There was this ethereal sort of glow being cast along the top of the water, and a cool breeze took that moment to brush over me, moving the tendrils of my hair along my shoulders.

I was so lost in thought and appreciation of the view that I didn’t realize Wolf was urging me down to sit on a large boulder at the water’s edge.

For a second I just looked up at him, and there was this strange heaviness that seemed to surround us as he stared right back at me. He made another sound, a series of grunts and purrs, before he turned and headed toward the water.

I’d wondered more than once if I was dreaming. Because all of this was just too unrealistic to be life. But it felt real.Hefelt real.

Curiously, I watched him walk toward the water and get in, moving toward the center. He didn’t face me right away as he started washing himself off, droplets splashing around his body, his dark fur almost looking black now that it was wet and plastered to his body.

I could clearly see how muscular and hard he was all around. Huge, broad shoulders, long arms with bulging biceps, and forearms that were cut and defined and had me clenching my thighs together.

He might not be human, but he was the most masculine, powerful thing I’d ever seen in my twenty-two years of life.

I glanced around, realizing I could try to sneak off while he wasn’t looking and preoccupied. I even braced my hands on the boulder and was about to push myself up. But I knew… knew that it was pointless. At least right now. I needed to be smart, because if I tried escaping now, he’d only catch me, and then his defenses would be up.

I had to lower them, get him to think I was submissive to his ways, so he wasn't on guard. And then I’d try to leave. That was the sane thing.

And when he turned around, I couldn’t help the sharp breath I sucked in. The bastard was getting erect. I watched in a strange sort of awe and fascination as his cock emerged and he reached down to wrap his big, meaty paw around himself. And the longer I stared, the harder he got. His huge, hairy balls started swaying slightly as hejerked off right in front of me.

I shouldn’t have stared, but how the hell was I supposed tonotwatch as he pleasured himself? It was clear he was a damn exhibitionist.

I guess that made me a voyeur, because my pussy was soaked watching him masturbate. With the moonlight casting a silvery glow over his body, I really stared at his shaft.

So long. So thick.

And because he was so damn hard, every time his palm moved up to the base, I could see these raised ridges all along the length.

Built-in ribbed for her pleasure? Well, damn.

He also had a swollen ring in the center of his cock, one that I could see throbbing even from this short distance.

My throat was so damn tight and my mouth so dry. I tried like hell to stop watching him, but the sounds he made, thegrunts and groans coming from his chest, told me he liked me being a creep, apparently.

How could I call him a pervert when I was doing the same things?