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WARNER

We end up at my place, mainly because it’s closer.

And I need to be alone with Zoey as soon as possible.

Anticipation thrums between us, but we haven’t kissed again since Harvey’s sudden appearance broke us apart.

I’m biding my time.

“How long have you lived here?”

Zoey trails her fingers along the back of my sofa. I imagine those fingers giving my skin the same treatment.

I’m so frantic for her that I’ve situated myself on the opposite side of the room, trying to get enough distance that I can remind myself how to treat this gorgeous woman with respect rather than ravage her like a beast.

But, damn, her proximity brings out my animal.

“Three years,” I can’t suppress the needy growl in my voice.

A smile curves her mouth. “Any roommates?”

“No. Just me.”

She meets my eyes, her stare wicked. “Good.” Then, her fingers are at the edge of her skirt, pulling the material up and over her head until she’s on display, dressed only in some peachy underwear that almost exactly matches her skin tone.

Zoey is all curves and soft edges. I can see her nipples through the lacy material of her bra. I want to suck on them, see how wild I can drive her with my tongue on those sensitive peaks. Then, I want to drag her panties off and tongue her core until she’s screaming my name. I stalk across the room to where she leans back against the couch. I’m almost to her, hands reaching, when Zoey dodges my grip by dropping to her knees.

“What …” My question trails off as she undoes my belt buckle and slides the leather free.

“Do you mind if I suck your dick? I imagined it once, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” Her fingers pause on my fly as she stares up at me. Waiting for my permission.

“Sure. Go for it.” My attempt at sounding casual fails when the words come out on a choked breath.

Zoey makes quick work of my pants zipper, and her eager hands push the material down, along with my briefs. I’m half hard from the sight of her on her knees, and when she makes a happy noise and wraps her hand around the base of me, I grow to my full length.

“I’m STI-free,” she informs me. “Tested three months ago and haven’t been with anyone in a year. When was the last time you were checked? Do werewolves get STIs?”

Everything about her, even her curious questions about werewolf health, turns me on.

“As far as I know, we don’t get them. But my doctor gave me the all clear a month ago.” The words come out rushed; I’m happy to share the info, but I want to get to the promise in her eyes.

“And you haven’t been with anyone since?”

I shake my head, losing my voice as she adjusts her grip on my hard length.

“Good.” She gazes up at me as her hand slides up and down my cock, almost leisurely in the slow movement. “What do you like, Warner?”

When I hesitate, she leans forward, pressing a hot kiss to my stomach, making my ab muscles twitch in response. Her free hand wraps around the back of my thigh, gripping firmly, holding herself against me. And all the while, she strokes.

“What do you like?” she whispers again, breath warm against my skin. Then, her tongue sneaks out, teasing me with a lick, like an offering. Showing what I can ask for.

But all I manage is a confession, courtesy of my lust-soaked brain.

“I-I haven’t … done this.”

Zoey doesn’t back away in surprise. She simply nuzzles her nose against my hip bone. “You’ve never gotten a blow job?”

I shake my head, then answer, “No.”

“Are you a virgin?”

That shocks a chuckle out of me, but then I’m suddenly groaning when her teeth pinch my skin. “No. Just never asked … for this.”

I’m having trouble remembering anything that’s felt better than the rhythmic pumping Zoey refuses to let up on. My hips try to thrust in time with her movements.

“But you gave it?” She ends her question with another kiss on my stomach, and the image of my face buried between Zoey’s legs has me growling.

“Yeah. Fuck. I want to lick your pussy.”

Her grip tightens by a fraction, drawing out my panting and thrusting.

“In a minute.”

Then, she places her lips against the crown of my cock and slowly drags me into the wet heat of her mouth.

And if I’d known this is what I could’ve asked for, I would have.

Zoey sucks me in deep, then hums a happy sound. The vibration massages my dick. My knees threaten to buckle.

She lets me slip back out, teasing the underside of my cock with her tongue as she does.

Curses tumble from my mouth.

Then, Zoey stands, letting me go, and I want to beg her to touch me again.

“Wait, Zoey, I’m sorry.”

She raises one eyebrow. “Sorry for what?”

“I …” I don’t know exactly. “For whatever I did wrong.”

Her curious brown eyes trace over me as satisfaction curves her mouth. “I was just going to suggest you sit down before your legs give out. I doubt I’m strong enough to catch you.”

Zoey smiles at me, sweet and confident. She cares about me. About something as simple as my comfort during a blow job. The suggestion somehow ramps up the meaning of this encounter.

At least it does for me.

Instead of finding a place to sit, I snake my arm around Zoey’s waist, tugging her into my chest. As I capture her mouth with mine, I spread my hands over her bare skin. She is soft against my hard grip. Wild, instinctual urges beg that I mark her. Not in a violent manner. I don’t want to bruise her pillowy skin.

More like I want to tattoo my fingerprints on her.

Yes , my wolf whispers.

Be mine . I fight the desperate plea, worried I’ll scare her away with the strength of my wanting.

In place of the words, I use my touch to worship her.

My tongue caresses hers, inciting happy gasps that I swallow down as gifts. Gently, I knead the flesh of her ass, rocking our hips together, hinting at the way I want to thrust into her.

Zoey cups my cheeks, only to keep my head still as she pulls away.

“You said I could go down on you.” There’s an accusing note to her voice.

I chuckle. “I thought girls saw giving head as a chore.” That’s the main reason I’ve never asked for it before. When I was only hooking up with someone, I didn’t want to be selfish. Not when I wasn’t giving them any more of myself.

“It’s only a chore if you don’t like doing it.”

“And you like it?” My question is breathless as I stare down at Zoey’s mouth, the sparkle of her piercing taunting me.

She uses her body, pushing her chest against mine, to back me up until my knees hit the armrest of the couch and I fall backward, bouncing on the plush cushions. Zoey stands tall above me, her dark honey hair curling over her shoulders, cocky smile plumping her cheeks.

With swift hands, Zoey tugs off my boots before fully stripping off my pants and briefs. Then, she climbs over me, straddling my hips, and settles the hot core of her against my rigid cock. A broken groan pushes out of my throat as my mind tries to deal with the delicious torture of being pinned down by lace-covered perfection. One thin strip of material separates us.

As I’m losing my mind, Zoey is still meticulously removing my clothing. She tugs my grease-stained T-shirt over my head, so I finally lie completely naked beneath her.

“This is my favorite position to finish in.” She stares down at me, palms braced on my shoulders, waiting for an answer.

“Hell yes. I can’t wait—” My grip is on her hips, lifting her up, trying to figure out how to tug off her panties when she has her legs straddling me.

“No.” Slim fingers wrap around my wrists.

Zoey removes my hands, and I grumble in disappointment. Then, she pins my arms above my head, her face hovering just above mine, a sexy, scolding look in her eyes.

“You haven’t been paying attention.”

A disbelieving scoff bursts from my chest. I’ve done nothing but pay attention. My eyes haven’t left Zoey since she sauntered into the mechanic’s shop.

Zoey smirks, then leans down to bite my lower lip. Hard. She doesn’t draw blood. But she does almost make me come.

“Warner, what do I want?” she murmurs against my mouth, her tongue coming out to soothe the spot where her teeth dug in.

I swallow multiple times before I can form words. “You want to ride me?”

This feels like a test. What will I get if I answer wrong? More importantly, what will I get if I answer correctly?

“Hmmm.” She drops her head lower, and suddenly, I feel a hard bite on my neck. My hips jerk up in response, my body writhing in pleasure.

Zoey’s human strength is no match for my supernatural abilities. If I wanted, I could easily break her hold, roll over with her pinned under me, and drive through her flimsy underwear.

But I don’t want that.

Something in me craves Zoey’s control. She’s dominating me, and I’ve never had a more erotic experience in my life.

Nothing has ever felt so intimate.

“What do I want?”

Hell, I need to answer her. She demands it. I struggle to form thoughts and make them into words.

“My-my dick. You want to suck it.”

At first, she doesn’t respond. Her head only moves lower, and I brace myself for another tormenting bite. But then she places a soft kiss in the middle of my chest, and her grip on my wrists releases.

“That’s a good werewolf,” Zoey murmurs, her voice husky, her breath teasing the coarse hair on my chest.

I wonder if she minds that I’m not smooth, like some male model or the werewolves on a CW show.

The way her fingers flex in it, the way her nose traces through it, the way her lips press trails of kisses in it, make me think she doesn’t mind my fuzz in the slightest.

Then, her mouth is level with my cock, and thinking becomes impossible.

I’ve seen calluses on Zoey’s fingers—results from her DIY projects. But when she touches me, her skin is warm silk.

She slips off the couch, kneeling on the floor. Her breasts press into my thighs, tempting me. I want to cup them. The brief handful I got earlier in the shop was over too soon.

When she rides me , I promise myself.

Zoey grips the base of me so I stand erect.

Then, the erotic torment begins.

Her tongue drags up my entire length before flicking the tip. A bead of pre-cum seeps out, and I watch Zoey deliberately lick the drop.

It’s possible that I’m bleeding—the nails of my fingers are digging so hard into my palms.

She then sets my dick on her full bottom lip and proceeds to work her way down. Zoey doesn’t draw in every inch immediately. Instead, she pulls me in, bit by bit, every centimeter of my cock receiving an introduction to her mouth. She bathes me with her tongue, tightens her lips for a second of suction, then gives the gentlest of warnings with a light tease of teeth.

My breathing becomes frantic. Lust boils my brain. The couch groans as I grip the frame, needing something to hold on to. Something to keep me from tangling my hands in Zoey’s hair and holding her to me so she has no choice but to finish blowing my mind.

Then, the wet heat of her mouth disappears, and I mutter a cursing protest.

“Warner?” The seductress aspect of her voice is muted, and she’s back to curious. Honestly, I don’t know which side of her I find more intoxicating.

“Yeah?” I try to keep the desperation from my response.

“What’s your recovery time like? Is it faster because you’re a werewolf? Can I finish you in my mouth and still get to fuck you in a bit? Or should I bring you to the edge and then have you finish inside me?”

Zoey is lucky I don’t shoot off just at the sound of those dirty, analytical questions dropping from her glistening lips. Especially when her hand circles my erection, continuing to work me over as she rattles them off.

“I, uh …” Earlier, I bragged about my stamina. But the truth is, my other hookups never lasted more than one round. I clench my teeth and grip the couch harder as her thumb traces over my sensitive head in an almost-absent-minded manner. When I think I can talk, I try again. “In the past”—I gasp—“I’ve been one and done. But with you …” The word morphs into a pleasurable growl. “I don’t know, Zoey. Fuck if I know.”

A satisfied smile curves her lips. “Guess we’re taking you to the edge then.”