Page 9 of The Artsy Girl’s Guide to Mating with a Werewolf (Mate Hunted #2)

eight

STELLA

Graham kissed me the way he finger-fucked me.

Rough.

Wild.

Untamed.

He wasn’t trying to control me or the moment. He was just enjoying it.

I fucking loved that.

We made out while I lined his erection up with my slit. Considering his only experience with his ex, it was pretty clear I needed to take charge, and I was fine with that.

He’d get more comfortable in time.

We’d have fun while we worked toward it.

I moved my hips just enough to take the tip of him inside me. His responding groan and the way his hand tightened around the back of my neck had me sinking down further, slowly taking more.

His hips jerked a little, his motions growing rougher. I could tell he was fighting to stop himself from reacting, but he was losing that fight. And I was glad he was.

I didn’t want him controlled.

I wanted him raw and real. Feral, even.

It was funny how the thing that had most worried me about his pack was what I liked the most. In bed, at least.

We moved together slowly. I responded to his failure at controlling his motions, and he eventually realized I wanted him to rock like that.

His thrusts grew harder and rougher.

The sounds of my pleasure—and his—became louder and more desperate.

Until finally, we came together.

The climax hit far more intensely than before. The way his massive erection throbbed with his pleasure dragged my release out for what felt like ages.

When I finally collapsed on his chest, dazed and blissed-out, I couldn’t help but think that werewolf sex was so much better than human sex.

And I promptly fell asleep.

Graham’s eyes were the first thing I saw when I woke up next.

They were fixed on me. Tired, heavy with sleep, and completely focused.

His cock was still inside me, and thick and hard.

It throbbed when our gazes met. I had to fight back a grin.

“Hey,” I murmured, my bare body still sprawled over his.

“Hey.” His hand smoothed down my spine, like he couldn’t help it. “I should feed you.”

“I don’t want you to get up.”

His cock throbbed again.

“Want me to get off of you?” I asked him, just in case he wasn’t feeling it as much as he seemed to be.

His eyes darkened. “Fuck, no.”

“Good.” I closed mine again. “How long have I been out?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a phone with me. Or a clock. It’s dark outside, though.”

So at least a while.

That was probably why I felt a little better.

“How much sleep am I going to need?” I asked, as a yawn stretched my cheeks.

“A lot.” His hand slid up and down my spine again. “I really need to make you something to eat.”

“Or not.”

“Stell…” The way he shortened my name felt intimate. I wouldn’t have expected to like it, but I did.

I cracked one eye open. “Stop feeling guilty.”

His cock throbbed. “Guilt is not what I’m feeling.”

“Then fill me in.”

“I want to fuck you so badly I can hardly breathe.” His words came out slightly strained.

“Then do it,” I said.

Graham blinked once.

Then again.

He watched me for a minute, as if he was waiting for me to change my mind or take it back.

When it became clear that I wasn’t going to do either, he held my body to his and rolled us over.

I was on my back as he leaned over me, his cock still buried inside me.

“Are you sure?” His voice was low and raspy, but I knew he wasn’t going to push.

He was so completely opposite of my ex.

And so completely perfect.

“I’m sure.”

His chest rumbled, and he pulled out before filling me again slowly. Inch by inch.

The man was in no hurry—and neither was I.

For the first time in my life, I could see why some people called it making love.

After a quick shower together, which turned into a round of rough sex against the tiled wall, we went to the kitchen. He was wearing a pair of sweats, and I had one of his t-shirts on.

My eyelids were getting droopy, but my stomach was growling fiercely enough to keep me awake.

I leaned heavily against the cabinets while Graham gathered what he’d need for whatever he was cooking. When he noticed me drooping, he hesitated for a beat before lifting me on top of the counter.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Any time.” He squeezed my thigh lightly before going back to the ingredients.

I watched him move for a minute.

His entire posture had changed since my wolf bit him. While he’d been quietly confident before, he stood taller now, embracing his height and size a little more. He definitely seemed more sure of himself.

Had I done that?

I supposed it could’ve been the sex. The man obviously had some baggage from his last relationship. Having only slept with a woman who wasn’t even attracted to him couldn’t have been great for his self-image.

“I should probably go back to work,” I said. “And talk to Jade. She’s obviously freaking out, and Abby is great, but not great at calming people down. Or lying. Maya isn’t even interested in trying.”

“Both of those things can wait until you’ve caught up on sleep a little more.”

“I guess.” I yawned, running my hand through the top of my hair. The motion dragged his eyes back to me. His attraction was so freaking obvious. And honestly, it made me feel like a million bucks.

He started cooking, and I watched for a few minutes. His gaze flicked back to me every ten or fifteen seconds, like he couldn’t help it.

“You look like you’re trying to decide whether or not to ask me something,” I said. “Just ask. I’m not shy.”

“I have so many questions, I’m not sure where to start,” he admitted.

That was understandable.

After the months my wolf had spent following him around, I knew where he stood on just about everything.

He loved his job and had no desire to move away from his house on the lake.

He could go either way as far as having kids, but wouldn’t want more than one. Two would be a hard max.

Same. Werewolves had a hard time getting pregnant anyway.

He loved my artwork and wanted to see me paint in person. He really wanted to know why I’d become an artist and how everything had gone down with that, but hadn’t been able to ask for obvious reasons.

He thought relationships with the people you cared about were important.

After having to move away from his blood-related family to get space from his ex, he had joined the feral pack and become the guy everyone called when they got a flat tire.

His people all knew Graham would drop anything and everything to help them out.

Politically, we shared views and values that were almost completely aligned.

He loved being outdoors.

He loved being a werewolf.

Regardless of what life threw at him, he’d need a few minutes to come around to whatever had changed, and then he’d figure out a way to roll with the punches.

He wasn’t loud or energetic.

He was calm. Steady. Content.

And that was exactly what I wanted and needed in my life.

But he didn’t know me—and I needed to fix that. He was laid-back enough to take his sweet time getting to know me. After watching through my wolf’s eyes for so long, I knew him well enough that I’d rather just jump headfirst into everything.

When he was comfortable with it, of course.

“Alright, let’s do a speed-dating thing. I’ll give you a quick rundown, and you can ask me anything you want until we finish eating. The cutoff is purely because I’m going to crash again as soon as I’m not hungry anymore.”

“You should. Furball was hunting for a long time.”

I nodded and held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Stella. I like long walks through the forest, rare steak, art in any form, and apparently, guys who wear pajama pants with s’mores on them.”

Graham’s face reddened, but there was no missing the grin that lit up those gorgeous green eyes as he put his elbow in my hand and shook it. He was in the process of cutting vegetables, so the elbow shake was probably a better call than using his hands. “Nice to meet you.”

“Indeed.”

A snort escaped him.

My lips curved upward. “I’m serious. Ask me anything.”

“Have you been with anyone since your ex?” he asked.

“Right to the good stuff, huh?”

The red on his face spread. “You don’t have to—”

“No, I haven’t been with anyone since my werewolf ex. You’ve met Furball. She doesn’t play nice. Even if I’d wanted to sleep with someone, which I didn’t, she never would’ve let me.”

Graham nodded. “And you said you haven’t had any contact with his pack since?”

“No. Even if they reached out, I wouldn’t answer. My past is in my past a little more than yours.”

Graham grimaced. “The situation with Carly isn’t ideal.”

“The fact that she’s still texting you and going to your family’s holiday celebrations is the only red flag I noticed in our… what, four months?”

“Something like that.” He was still red. “There’s nothing romantic about it. You’ve seen the texts. It was never romantic. Just… uncomfortable.”

“I know. I’m sure she’s happy with her mate, but sending you pictures of them together seems kind of cruel.”

“I think she still feels bad. And I think my parents are hoping that her reaching out will somehow make me move back there.”

“It won’t,” I said bluntly.

“Not a chance.” He looked back to the vegetables. “I don’t have feelings for her. I don’t think I ever did. I don’t hate her the way most of the other guys hate their exes, but I’m pretty neutral toward her. If it made you uncomfortable, I would ask her to stop texting me.”

“I know you would.”

Graham looked up from his cutting board. “You do?”

“I’ve basically been spying on you for months. I know you pretty well. I think sending her a picture of you and I together would put an end to her texts, so I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. But this conversation is supposed to be your chance to ask me questions.”

“Right. Speed dating.”

“Mmhm.” I reached over and plucked a piece of tomato out of the bowl he was filling.

Eating in human form felt amazing. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it.

“Have you always loved art?” Graham asked.

“Good question.” I stole another piece of tomato.

He slid the bowl closer to me, enabling my thievery.

Good man.

“Honestly, no. I liked it. I always took art classes in junior high and high school. I did well, too. But I never particularly loved it, you know? It was basically just a hobby. I actually started college with the intention of following the family tradition and becoming a lawyer.”

Graham’s eyebrows shot upward. “A lawyer?”

I smiled. “Yeah. It would’ve been a bad fit.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Everything that happened with my ex. After I got away, I needed an outlet, and art was just… there. I threw myself into it head first, and realized pretty quickly that I didn’t want to pull it back out.

Passion followed my energy, I guess. I changed my major, much to my family’s horror, and realized pretty quickly that I was going to have to be smart if I wanted to make money. ”

“Is your family full of lawyers?”

“Yup. I’m the screwup.” I popped another piece of tomato into my mouth. “They probably won’t like you right off the bat, so prepare yourself. I’m sure they’ll come around, though. They’ll think your job is a lot more legitimate than mine.”

“Most of the town hated our pack at first.”

“I heard. The Feral Pack has quite the reputation.”

“It used to be worse,” he admitted. “They came around, though.”

“How could they resist?” I teased.

He gave me another small grin. “How did you end up at the university?”

“One of my professors heard about the program and suggested it to me. I’d started my business a few months earlier, and it was doing well, but I was nervous about the lack of stability.

When I realized the university was close to Moon Ridge, Furball made it clear there was no other option.

Being away from other werewolves was hard on her from the beginning. ”

“So you applied, and got in?”

“Mmhm. I think it helped that I told them I was willing to work part time if that was all they had for me. I’ve only ever taught two days a week.

The rest of my time is dedicated to the business, but even those two days have been a little much.

I was supposed to switch to only one day for the current semester, which will make commuting easier. ”

“Commuting?”

“From Moon Ridge to the university. I figured we’d live here. Unless you reject me, I guess.”

“That’s not going to happen.” His voice was low. Almost growly.

“I didn’t say it was.” I grabbed another chunk of tomato. After a beat of hesitation, I lifted it to Graham’s lips.

His eyes darkened. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around my fingers slowly.

My face heated.

The rest of me did too.

My massive yawn interrupted the moment, and he looked amused as he leaned away. “I’m doing a shitty job of feeding you.”

“You fed me your cock pretty well.”

Graham snorted, handing me the cutting board with a bunch of tomato slices on it before he turned toward the stove. “I still can’t believe you just climbed on top of me like that. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’d say I’m always that sexy, but it would be a lie. I usually walk around in nothing but a pair of ancient cotton shorts and the world’s ugliest, most comfortable bra, with my hair up in a messy bun that just sticks out everywhere.” I gestured to the top of my head, where said bun always went.

“I guess that explains the paint-speckled bras I found when I moved your stuff.”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’m clearly not the kind of guy who cares what his woman wears.”

“His woman?” I teased.

“Yeah, Stell. You bit me. That makes you mine.”

“Fair point.” I ate a few more pieces of tomato while Graham got some meat cooking. “Thanks for keeping my business going.”

“It’s the least I could do after sending you into a mate hunt.”

“Technically, my wolf did that on her own. I knew it was a possibility, but didn’t actually think it would happen, you know?”

“Yeah. Better than most people, probably. You saw how shocked I was when you shifted.”

“The most shocked,” I agreed.

Graham chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Three.”

He asked about them, and I launched into a description and explanation while he cooked and I snacked.

Graham was ridiculously easy to talk to. I hoped he felt the same way about me, too.