Page 38

38

WARNER

I tilt my head up, searching her gaze. If Zoey were a wolf, her eyes would be turning black. As it is, I watch her pupils expand with excitement.

With the odd tracks her mind sometimes takes, I can’t fathom what her goal is. But I hope she has something dirty planned.

“Lifting this couch on my own wouldn’t be a problem.” Since I don’t go to the gym, I can’t offer my benching numbers.

“When you carry me …” Her breath catches, and her pulse pounds so hard that I can watch it flutter under her skin.

“Light as a feather.”

My human nods, her eyes tracking over me, and then she abruptly sits up, which pushes her ass into my straining erection. I groan, eager for the moment I can push inside her tight heat again.

“I’ve decided against the couch,” Zoey announces.

“You want me to carry you to the bed?” Please say yes.

“No.”

“Then—”

“How do you feel about fucking me up against a wall?”

My answer is to scoop her up in my arms, holding her close against my chest as I move to the middle of the room.

“Which wall?”

Zoey chuckles, smoothing her hands over my tight shoulders. Her touch is fire and torture, and I never want her to stop.

Instead of choosing, she leans into me and bites the lobe of my ear.

I grunt and stumble forward, finding the nearest space, an expanse of bare wood to press her up against. My hips and chest pin her in place, and she gasps when I rock against her.

But then she utters the one word sure to freeze all the heated lust coursing through me.

“Stop,” Zoey commands.

And I listen, immediately stepping back and letting her feet settle on the floor. My eyes trace over her body, searching for where I went wrong. Nothing is obvious, but I yearn to know. To correct my mistake.

“Zoey, I?—”

“Do you want to lick my pussy again?”

A shiver works a slow path through my body, and I can imagine blackness seeping into my eyes.

“Yes,” I growl.

The thought of having Zoey’s taste on my tongue brings my animalistic nature to the surface.

“Then, get on your knees.”

I drop fast and press my face into her belly, breathing in her sweet, earthy scent. Zoey sighs a happy note as I nose through her curls, then lifts a thigh to give me better access. Her eyes flutter closed at the first swipe of my tongue. Hands in my hair, leg slung over my shoulder, bare breasts thrust forward. She is a goddess. Powerful. Taking what she wants from me without an ounce of embarrassment.

This is what I hungered for after that first night in the bar. I needed her, this woman who wouldn’t be afraid of me or mine. Someone fierce and bold. Unafraid to dominate even the most terrifying of monsters.

Maybe Zoey Gunner isn’t the type of person looking for control out in the world, but here, in our passion, she holds court. In our pack of two, she is the alpha, and I am her devoted beta.

A human who knows about my claws and fangs, yet still demands I drop to my knees and lick her cunt.

Her moans mix with gasps as her nails dig into my scalp. The sharp pricks go straight to my cock, and I fist myself, even as I circle my tongue around her clit.

“That’s it,” she groans, writhing against the wall, rocking into my face.

Arousal tastes sharp and tangy, not like food, but delicious in a forbidden way. I bury my face in her folds. Her warmest spot.

“Warner …” Zoey pants my name, and I stare up at her through the valley of her breasts. Maple-brown eyes connect with mine. “Make me come,” she demands.

My balls tighten, wanting to join her. But it’s too soon. If I can last, I’ll be inside her, surrounded by her tight warmth.

Sliding my lips back to her clit, I suck until she’s gasping on screams. Her leg buckles, but I catch my goddess, slinging her other leg over my shoulder and pressing her to the wall as the orgasm ripples through her.

After a moment, I realize the painful, pleasurable grip on my hair has loosened, and instead, she’s stroking my sweat-damp strands.

“Good werewolf.”

I glance up to catch her little smirk, which has me chuckling. “Smart-ass,” I mutter before pressing kisses to her soft belly.

Her scent surrounds me, thicker than syrup, and I’m still hard and throbbing.

A light touch strokes under my chin, tilting my head up.

“Stand up.”

I slide her legs from my shoulders and rise up from my crouched position. Suddenly looming over her feels wrong. Zoey should have the higher ground. Wrapping my palms around her thighs, I boost her up until my new belt is her strong legs. We both groan as her damp center brushes against my erection.

But the delicious sensation somehow brings on a sliver of logic.

“Condom. Fuck. We need—I need—” Do I have any with me? My brain is barely working, but I cycle through the places guys normally keep condoms.

Wallets. But our health ed teacher told us that’s a good way to end up with a damaged rubber.

Glove compartment. I drive a fucking motorcycle.

Bedside table. We’re at Minnie Gunner’s cabin. I doubt the woman kept a lot of contraceptives around.

“I don’t have one.” The confession burns my throat with regret, my forehead banging against the wall I have the most gorgeous, intoxicating woman pressed up against. But a small hope flares to life. “Do you?”

Leaning back, I find myself staring at a furiously blushing Zoey. Her fingers fiddle with the hair at the back of my neck, and her eyes dart around, as if trying to look anywhere but into mine.

Worry rattles through me.

“Zoey?”

“I was going to!” The words burst out of her, and her cheeks get even redder. “I was in the store, in the aisle, standing right in front of them, and then boom!”

“Boom? What’s boom?”

“Your mom is boom.” The sexual dominant from a second ago flees in the face of her embarrassment. “She walked down the aisle, and we made eye contact, so I panicked and grabbed tampons instead. This town is so fucking small.”

Damn it, Mom. Way to be a cockblock.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. Her skin is scorching when I press a kiss to her neck, all that blood pooling just under the surface. “We can have sex another night.”

The talon grip is back in my hair, pulling my head back until I meet molten chocolate eyes.

“Sex isn’t only P in V, Warner. And I’m not going to be satisfied until I see you come.”

Every muscle in my body clenches, twitching with anticipation. Suddenly, the possibilities seem endless. One road is off-limits, but there are plenty of others that we can drive down. Will she stroke me with her strong grip? Or maybe she’ll take me in her mouth again, not stopping at the edge, but instead pushing me all the way?

“Take me to the bed,” Zoey commands.

Walking with a raging hard-on and a naked goddess wrapped around me isn’t the easiest task in the world, but I manage. In the bedroom, I go to sit on the mattress, expecting my woman will want to take her place on top. But her next direction stops me.

“Lay me down.”

The old springs squeak as her body bounces on her landing. The many soft spots on her jiggle, hypnotizing me, tempting me to sink down on my knees again. Her taste is already fading from my tongue, and I want it back.

My hand grabs her ankle, ready to pull apart her legs and expose that delicious core of her.

But Zoey shakes her head and scoots further back on the covers.

“Come here, Biker Boy. Kneel over me.” And as she speaks, her hands cup her boobs, thumbs rubbing over her nipples. The pose is an offering.

I lose myself in the erotic nature of the idea. The temptation is so acute that my body has forgotten how to move.

“Don’t you want to?” Zoey’s question breaks through the shock, and I can see the uncertainty in the way she bites her lip.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, crawling up her body, dragging my mouth over her bare skin as I go.

Every lick and nip has her gasping and chuckling. When my face reaches her chest, I tongue her stiff nipples in turn, a preemptive thank-you.

Zoey writhes under my ministrations. “I’ve never tried this. But—oh God—I want to watch you.”

A growl of need rips from my throat. Despite the animalistic nature of the sound, my wolf isn’t controlling my actions. I am all man at this moment, and my woman wants to watch as I use her body to find release.

With my knees pressing into the mattress beside her ribs, my erection bobs, the tip seeping liquid that drops onto her flushed chest.

Zoey presses her boobs together as her heavy-lidded eyes meet mine. She must be staring into pure blackness.

Bracing one hand above her head, I use the other to guide my dick to the cradle she’s created. Soft. Warm. Erotic beyond belief.

My cock’s head appears and disappears as I slowly thrust. Zoey hums a satisfied purr, her lips curving in a wicked smile as her fingers pluck at her nipples.

It’s. Too. Much.

My speed increases, and the moisture that seeps from me makes each pass slicker. Soon, Zoey’s skin glistens with my pre-cum, and I want to roar in triumph.

“Warner.”

At the sound of my name, I realize I’ve been focused on watching myself thrust against her. I drag my eyes upward, meeting a fiercely commanding gaze.

“Zoey,” I groan, her name a plea.

“Come for me.” She’s not begging. The statement commands my obedience.

Suddenly, I’m spilling. My cum covers her chest, marking her as I shout curses of pleasure, hands fisting in the pillow beside her head.

Zoey releases her chest, her palms cupping my ass as I jerk involuntarily with the force of my release. When I’m spent, I roll to the side, collapsing on the mattress. The ceiling shifts and blurs as the aftershocks of pleasure fog my mind.

The bedsprings squeak again, and I realize Zoey is leaving me.

“Where—”

She cuts me off, “Don’t move. Be right back.”

I watch her ass as she strolls out of the room. A minute later, she comes back, hands full.

“Careful with this. It might still be drying.” She lays a motorcycle helmet on my bare chest. The protective wear has a fearsome wolf painted on the side.

“This is badass.” I sit up, holding it with care. “Where did you get it?”

Zoey smiles, the expression a beautiful combination of shyness and pride. “I made it. Well, I painted it. For you. Do you like it? I can do a different design if that’s not to your taste.”

“You …” My throat is suddenly tight with emotion, and I cough to clear it. “You’re gods-damn amazing. I love it.”

She grins wide, and I watch a beautiful red flush cover more than her cheeks. The tint traces down her neck and over her chest. That’s when I notice the other item she’s carrying. A damp towel, which she uses to clean herself. As the wet cloth wipes my cum away, I mourn the loss. My claim was temporary. Easily removed.

When will she let me mark her permanently?

What will I do if she never does?