Page 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EIREN WAS STILL eating, and he was still watching her, his gaze intense but almost lazy, too. She felt she was being toyed with, caged in here, in this wolf’s grasp, and he was letting her do what she liked until he was ready to do whatever he wanted with her.

She liked it.

She had started in on her french fries, offering some to him, but he declined. She ate each one, slowly, deliberately, looking up to find his smoldering gaze on her all the time.

What was going to happen when she was done eating?

“Are you going to want to chase me again?” she said finally. “Are you going to want me to run?”

“I think that’s a bad idea,” he mused. He was seated on the bed, elbow propped up on his knee, and he was all furry broadness, too big for her bed, too big for her room, too big to be inside a building. He seemed like wildness incarnate. “I’d like not to lose control. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Much,” she said, and she was taunting him.

His ears pricked up and lay back down and he didn’t respond to this.

“Will you want us to leave the room?” she said.

His gaze darted around and then settled back on her. “It’s not like I don’t fuck in a bed like a normal person, you know.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said.

“You think I’m going to damage stuff in here?”

“Are you?” Her voice was breathless.

He let out a raw chuckle. “Untie your robe.”

“No,” she said, even as she was doing it, was obeying him.

He shifted on the bed, rolling his head on his shoulders, looking her over. “Show me one of your tits.”

“I’m still eating,” she said.

“Bullshit, you are not. You haven’t eaten anything in a while now.”

It had barely been a couple minutes, but she was done with it, she guessed. She considered him. “You take off your shirt.”

He stripped it off immediately, showing her all the rippling heft of his broadness.

“Do you, like, lift weights while you’re coding?”

“No,” he said. “But I do shit outside a lot. I, uh, make things.”

“Things.”

“Like furniture and things. Sometimes just dumb shit, garden decorations or whatever? I do carpentry and welding. Mostly out of trash, or things people don’t want. Heavy things, I guess.” He surveyed himself. “I walk a lot, too. I like to walk and think through coding problems.”

She blinked at him. “So, you’re an artist, too.”

“I’m not an…” He raised his gaze to hers. “Sort of, maybe.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a while, and then she reached down and deliberately pulled aside her robe, baring her body to him.

He drew in an audible breath. “Show me the other one, too.”

She hesitated, and then she did it.

He stared at her for a very long time, and he didn’t say anything, and she didn’t say anything.

She could practically feel his gaze on her bare breasts, or maybe it was the air on them, or maybe it was the way that paying attention to something always seems to make it more sensitive.

He got to his feet.

She stayed where she was, sitting across from him with her breasts sticking out of her robe, as he advanced on her with all his girth and his height and his fur.

He stood over her and reached down with one hand to weigh first one and then the other. “You have great tits,” he said idly. He squeezed one. “I love the way they fit in my hands.”

She reacted to that, a little flutter within her at the compliment. She pressed her legs together.

“I can fucking smell you,” he growled. “I want you on the bed, on your hands and knees, with your ass in the air.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” she said, and she could hardly catch her breath. She pressed her legs together even more firmly. “You might have to force me, I think.”

“Force you,” he repeated. He looked at her face, taking in her expression and then back to her bare chest and then he yanked her upright, onto her feet. “Should we have a safe word, little preykin?”

“Do you want to know my name?” she said.

He thought about that. “I don’t know if I do.” He stripped the robe off her body, businesslike. He gave her a little shove, pushing her towards the bed.

She didn’t fight him. She did what he wanted, scrambling onto the bed on all fours.

He dragged his fingers over the curve of her bare ass. “My name is Lyall,” he said conversationally. “Open your legs wider. Show me your pussy, little preykin.”

She did it.

He stuck a finger into her.

She cried out.

He reached around and his thumb found her clit. He finger-fucked her and toyed with her clit with one hand and his other hand slid up over her belly to close around one of her breasts. “How easy is it to make you come usually?” he said.

“Not… as easy as it was last night,” she panted.

“Why do you think it was easy?” he said in a low voice, and she could feel the tickle of his breath at the junction of her thighs.

“I don’t…”

“Was it because you were afraid of me?” he said.

Something about the way he spoke made that spike of strange not-quite-unpleasant heat shoot through her, and that same thing made her clench on his finger and she let out a guttural noise.

He drew in a whistling breath. “Fuck, the way you smell right now,” he muttered.

Suddenly, his teeth were around the fleshy part of her inner thigh, gentle but with a hint of pressure.

She cried out, the heat spiking, her body clenching, his thumb moving frantically on her clit, his hand at her breast squeezing her in a rhythm that stretched her nipple in delicious ways.

He bit down harder on her thigh.

And she came, just like that, her body flattening out in a white-hot ebb that jumped frantically into a crest of hot, hot pleasure.

He yanked his hand out of her pussy, took his teeth off her leg.

She pressed her legs together to wring out her orgasm, letting out tiny little noises as the aftershocks moved through her pelvis.

He put a hand on her back and pushed.

She collapsed, belly down on the bed, still coming.

The sound of his zipper, the press of the head of his thickness. “Now, little preykin, I am going to fuck you. Yes?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, please.”

“Good,” he growled, and he seized her tail with one hand and speared her. He fucked her hard, briskly, still holding her tail, using it to move her up and down against the rhythm of his thrusts.

It hurt and felt good at the same time. His cock didn’t hurt, but the way he was yanking on her tail did.

She made little yipping noises and he grunted and he didn’t last very long.

“Take my come?” he said.

“Yes,” she gasped. They weren’t compatible. He couldn’t get her pregnant. It was fine.

“Good,” he said again, and she felt him pulsing into her.

He reached around her and found her clit again. He passed his thumb over it, and she was sensitive there, and she felt a shower of sparks that made her clench a little.

She moaned.

“Good little preykin,” he breathed. “Good little fuckable prey with such a swollen little clit. You smell fantastic.”

She moaned again. Moon and sun, she was close. He could make her come again.

“Want you to come for me again,” he said. “Come for me twice. Tell me I please you.”

“You—you do,” she whined.

“You like it when I fuck you.”

“Yes.”

“You want it. You want me to hunt you down like this and make you take my cock.”

“Oh, yes,” she panted. “Oh, fuck, yes.” And then she crested and came again, spasming wildly around his intruding, hard, hot member inside her.

“Yes,” he gasped, thrusting against her. “Yes, that, good. You’re coming?”

“I’m coming,” she panted, her voice tattered. “I’m coming.”

He bit her again, leaning forward to put his teeth to that same sore spot on her neck.

For some reason, it made the orgasm intensify. She tightened and hit a higher crest, a shower of golden sweet sparks like bliss going through her. She let out a sound like a sob.

He collapsed into her, onto her, and they lay on the bed like that, his cock inside her, his jaw clamped around her neck, and she felt very, very caught.

Wolf’s plaything, she thought.

She liked it.