Page 28 of Witch’s Wolf (Bound by the Howl #2)

28

ERICA

I don’t need to hear anything else. His confession shatters the last of my resistance, slipping through the cracks of my broken heart. He’s hurting. So am I. But the difference between us right now is that I refuse to let him go.

I release his wrist and step into him. My breath catches as I shut my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. He doesn’t move but he doesn’t resist. His body is rigid with tension, but he doesn’t push me away. When our lips meet, the warmth of his mouth sears through me, melting everything but this moment. My tears mix with the rough scrape of his stubble, a silent apology against his skin.

His hands skim up my sides, slow and reverent, like he’s relearning the shape of me. His fingers ghost over my back, curling around my shoulders before pulling me tighter.

“Damn it,” he murmurs against my lips, voice rough, raw. “I’ve missed you.”

A shudder rushes through my entire body.

“I missed you too,” I breathe, fingers tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

His hands keep moving, exploring, mapping. When they find the zipper of my dress, I feel the briefest hesitation before the quiet rasp of the metal sliding down. A thrill rushes in, his need, his desperation and mine.

Then reality slams in, carried by muffled footsteps from outside and the chatter of staff finishing their shifts. I let out a breathless laugh, breaking away just enough to tease.

“Someone’s impatient.” His answer is a wicked smirk. “Not here,” I say, brushing my lips over his one last time. “Come to my place.”

The hunger in his gaze sharpens, but there’s something else beneath it. Something deeper, something that tethers me to him in ways I don’t understand.

I step back, retrieving my purse. My eyes flick to the dark stain on the floor—the only reminder of the vampire who’d almost ended me. Sam had saved my life. He’d protected me when I had given him every reason not to. I should ask about Helena’s warning, demand to know how he knew to be here.

But not now. Right now, I only want him. The questions can wait. But this? This can’t.

Heading home with Sam gives me time to think, to plan. This will be our first night together here, in my space. I want it to be different. I’ve had him before of course, wild, urgent, and somewhat desperate. Tonight, I need more, want more. Not a frantic, mindless collision against the nearest surface, not a stolen moment that ends too soon.

So, when we step inside my house, I don’t hesitate at the door, don’t let temptation drag me into another reckless repeat of what we did before. Instead, I flash a knowing smile over my shoulder and sway my hips as I move toward the bedroom, anticipation curling low in my belly.

The sight of my bed, deep purple sheets, soft and inviting, causes a thrill. I reach for my zipper as I step out of my heels. I’m picturing the way he’ll look sprawled out beneath me. I’m ready to pose for him, tease him, drive him insane, but then a sound stops me.

The rush of water.

I glance toward the bathroom, and sure enough, light spills through the doorway. A smirk tugs at my lips. Of course. I should’ve expected this. Padding forward, I lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight.

Sam stands under the shower, head tipped back, water streaming onto his face, down his chest, and cascading over sculpted abs that make my mouth go dry. His muscles flex as he rubs a hand over his arm, rinsing away the remnants of the fight, of that thing.

He senses me before he sees me, his voice low, deep and rumbling.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He doesn’t turn, but I catch the tension in his shoulders. “Had to wash that vampire off.”

Mind? A breathless laugh escapes as I ease down the strap of my dress, letting it slide over my shoulder.

“Are you kidding me?”

Sam doesn’t answer my question with his voice, but this moment isn’t about words. His eyes follow me as I step into the bathroom. They trail down my legs, lingering, but never settling on one place for too long. It’s deliberate and calculated. A slow, silent worship that makes my skin prickle.

I lift my leg over the side of the bathtub and step in, heat wrapping around. Steam rises between us, curling in the space as I bridge the last of the distance. My palms find his upper thighs, a gentle push urging him back beneath the stream of water. Warm rivulets slide over my skin as I reach up, fingers threading through my drenched hair, water spilling down my chest.

Then—heat.

A soft, searing press of lips just above my navel, followed by the rasp of stubble against my stomach. A tremor runs through me, sharp and electric.

“You’re so sexy…” Sam murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with something deep, something dark.

His hands find my hips, squeezing as he kisses his way up, slow and reverent. My breath catches when his mouth brushes the underside of my breast. His fingers drag up my back as his lips close around my nipple. The wet heat tightening the sensitive peak.

I grip his hair, wet and slick beneath my fingertips. He groans, the vibrations pulsing through me as his tongue circles, tasting, teasing… claiming. He wants more. I want more.

“More, baby,” I breathe, my voice a broken plea. “I want more.”

His response is a grunt, low and needy. His hands slide down my back, a rough scrape of calloused palms before he squeezes my ass, hard enough to make me gasp. He spreads me and strokes, his lips closing tighter and then a sharp, wicked bite that sends my head tipping back.

I barely register the way he moves. Barely process the shift of his body and the shift of mine. My knees tremble. Staying upright is suddenly impossible.

I step back, retreating to the corner of the bathtub. Cool marble presses against my thighs as I sit, one leg hooking over the side, my chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.

This time, Sam doesn’t let his gaze wander.

This time, his eyes stay right where I want them.

Another grunt rumbles from his chest, rough and raw. He kneels before me, hands pressing against my inner thighs, spreading me wide.

I brace myself against the cool marble, every nerve in my body tight with anticipation. Then contact. Sam’s mouth crashes against my clit and a shockwave of pleasure slams through me.

“God, I missed you so much…” I moan, my thighs trembling as his lips mold to me, kissing me like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing that can satisfy his hunger.

Heat coils deep in my belly, muscles clenching, desperate for more of him. I don’t have to ask. He knows. He always knows.

His tongue slides lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path down my slit. The tip teases, flirts, strokes through my slick folds with a precision that makes my breath catch.

One hand glides up, cupping my breast, the thumb circling my nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. The other moves lower, fingers pressing against my entrance.

His tongue flicks against my clit, a sharp jolt of pleasure striking through me as a finger pushes inside, stretching.

“Oh— yes ,” I gasp, pushing my hips forward.

Sam groans, the vibration sending a pulse of pleasure through my core. His finger sinks deeper, slow and measured, before withdrawing, only to plunge in again, this time further. My breath stutters. I fist his hair, tilting my head forward. The sight of him between my legs. His sharp jaw, those ravenous lips, the flicker of his tongue working its magic. It’s almost too much.

The steady pull and push of his touch, the way he rolls my nipple between his fingers, the way he worships me with his mouth, it all collides into something unstoppable.

My glutes tighten, my thighs quivering as I rock against him, chasing the rush.

Then he buries his finger to the knuckle, curling just right, sending pleasure detonating through my body.

A strangled moan tears from my lips. My back arches, hands slamming against the wall as my orgasm surges through, relentless and all-consuming. I barely register the sounds I’m making. Raw, wrecked, lost in him.

Dimly, I feel his mouth on me still, pressing soft, reverent kisses to my oversensitive flesh. His finger slides free, leaving me trembling.

“Stop,” I pant, my voice wrecked, thick with satisfaction. My body feels heavy, boneless, yet still wanting. “Stop, or I’m going to want round two.”

A slow, wicked grin spreads across his lips. Like I ever had a choice.

“I’ve got no problem with that.” Sam’s voice is thick, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. “I’d love it if you turned around, though.”

Heat flares in my chest, not just from his words but from the challenge in his eyes. Always pushing. Always testing my restraint.

“Oh, you—” I let out a breathless grunt and grab his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to make him feel it. “Don’t you know when you’ve teased me enough?”

He doesn’t answer. Just watches me with that steady, unshakable confidence, like he already knows exactly what I’ll do next. And damn it, he’s right.

I push him backward, forcing him to stretch out beneath me, his muscles flexing under my hands. My pulse stutters, the weight of his gaze pinning me in place as I hover over him. His body is a furnace against mine, each breath, each shift, setting me alight.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice rough, almost desperate.

I shudder, anticipation coiling tight inside. Slowly, I lower myself, my hands sliding over the hard planes of his chest. Every inch of me is attuned to him. The way his breath hitches, the possessive grip of his hands on my hips, the unmistakable need in his eyes. A slow, wicked smile tugs at my lips.

“Is all this for me?”

His answering growl vibrates through my bones, his fingers tightening, pulling me closer.

“What do you think?”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to. The air between us crackles, thick with longing, with unspoken words and a hunger neither of us can deny.

He pulls me close and slaps my ass. Turning me around and sending me into the embrace of molten desire. Warm water lands on my spine as I surrender to him.