by Haley Weir
She turned her head as Keaton dressed. After a minute, Ellison heard him say, “Better?”
Keaton clothed did make her feel more comfortable, but part of her wished that she could have continued watching him naked. This man…wolf…thing was insanely attractive. He was cut, with a body she had only seen on the cover of magazines. When she closed her eyes, she could picture him naked again. His six-pack tapered into a masculine V. His manhood was thick, and she flushed as she remembered that he was erect before she threw clothing at him. Clearly something about this situation was turning him on.
Shrugging that thought away, she tried to focus. “You need to just…explain.”
He spent the next hour telling her everything and answering all of her questions. He explained as much as he knew about how he’d been injured, why he was a shifter, and everything else that they could think of. After the conversation was exhausted, Ellison and Keaton sat down in their respective chairs and sighed.
“If you knew what I was doing and saying, that means that you saw…you saw…” she started and faltered.
He grinned, a dimple forming in his cheek. “I saw everything, sweetheart.”
She grimaced, and smacked a hand on her forehead. “Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. Otherwise I would’ve never seen those curves. Why do you hide them underneath – oof.” He was interrupted by Ellison’s playful shove, and laughed. “Not a great move, Ellison.”
“Elli.”
He cocked his head at her. “What?”
“My friends, they call me…” she broke off, seeming to process the words as they spilled out of her mouth. She flushed deeper.
“Elli,” he repeated in a low baritone voice. Her eyes flicked up to his, then looked back down with a smile. He smiled in response, not knowing why. “What is it?”
“Your eyes,” she admitted. “They’re the same. I always thought they looked human. Now I know why.”
He grinned. “Yup.”
She paused, then said, “So, now what?”
“Well I’d like to go home, shower, and visit my brother and make sure he’s fine.”
She nodded, then hitched. “Well wait, I can’t let you do that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What? Why not?”
“I can’t just let you go,” she said. Then, when she caught his grin, she pursed her lips at the flirtatious insinuation. “Not like that. I mean you look like this. And you’re wounded. I can’t just let you leave.”
“Then come with me,” he offered, knowing that was what he truly wanted. This was the moment. Either she came, or she ran off, disgusted and afraid of him. But dear god, he wanted her to come with him. He wanted to be with her more than anything else that he’d ever wanted before.
She chewed on her plump bottom lip and he fought a groan. Did this silly woman understand what she was doing to him? He’d watched her change, sing, dance, and live for the last week. He ached with desire for her. As she sat a few feet from him, he was using all that was left of his willpower not to push her up against the wall and have his way with her.
“I guess I could, at least for today. To…make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”
He tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a grin. Oh yeah. He was definitely going to take care of himself. “Sounds like a plan. Do you mind driving?”
She giggled for first time since Keaton had shifted back into his human form. He cherished the sound. Just a few hours ago, he thought he would never hear her laugh again. Now he could hardly imagine his life without it. “Yeah, I guess you’re kind of sans car at the moment.”
He nodded. They walked out the front, making sure to lock up after.
When they got to his place, he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. His apartment was an impressive mixture of midcentury modern styles. He was successful, and based on the décor of his home, he wasn’t afraid to show it.
After a week on the concrete and not being able to shower, he was looking forward to getting clean. He hadn’t even taken four steps into his living room before shedding his clothes.
He heard her gasp behind him. “What are you d-doing?”
He chuckled. “I’m taking a shower, sweetheart.” Feel free to join me if you want, he thought.
“O-oh. Sure. Yeah. That makes sense. I’ll just wait here and watch some TV or something.”
He chucked again, and thought about the fact that while he rubbed out a major orgasm in the shower, she would be in his living room, on his couch, watching his TV. The image made him hard. He liked her like this, in his space, in his world. He felt complete.
Once he was in the shower, he let himself think about their experiences together. Her laughing, changing, petting him. After only a few minutes, he was groaning, water coursing over him, with his raging hard on in almost physical pain at this point. He was just about to orgasm when he heard the bathroom door creak, and then the shower door swung open. “Keaton, are you…oh my god.”
He looked down at himself, naked, grasping his swollen shaft. It took everything in his power not to pull on it and finish the job, with this beautiful woman watching him. When the water started to hit her, turning her white tank top nearly transparent, he really did groan out loud.
“I thought you were in t-trouble,” she admitted. Her blue eyes were piercing. When they slid down his body to his abdomen, and then lower, he groaned again.
“Sweetheart, I don’t have much self-control right now. You have exactly five seconds to get that perky little ass out of my shower.”
She didn’t need five seconds. She took approximately two seconds to leave, slamming the glass shower door behind her.
Ellison tried to calm herself down and sat on the white leather sofa. Oh god. What had she just done? Hearing his groans, she’d thought maybe he’d hurt himself in the shower. But she realized that he was just…oh god.
She felt her flushed, enflamed cheeks with back of her hands in a fruitless attempt to cool herself down. She wasn’t a virgin, but it had been a while. She was more of a relationship person, and her romantic life had been at a stand still as of late.
When the water shut off, her heart started beating faster. Less than thirty seconds later, she heard him walking around in the kitchen behind her. She caught the scent of the steam coming out of the shower and off of him. It smelled amazing.
She turned and caught sight of him in just a towel, carelessly slung over his hips, hiding next to nothing. In fact, he still looked completely aroused. Hadn’t she seen him taking care of that? Her face flushed again. Why was he…was it because of her?
“Do you want something to eat?” he called over from the kitchen.
She shook her head. “No. Actually, I think that maybe I should get going. You’re obviously not that hurt. You can take care of yourself.”
She heard him walk behind the couch towards her slowly. She inhaled the scent of him, as he grew closer. He bent over, lowered his head until his lips were brushing the tip of her ear. “I could take care of myself. But why would I want to, with you here and offering to help?”
She shivered again. She clenched her thighs together, willing her body to control itself. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”
She stood, grabbed her purse, and turned towards him. Big mistake. At a distance, Keaton was hot as hell, but Keaton close up took her breath away. She licked her lips unconsciously; her eyes traveled down his body.
He groaned. “You should not have done that.”
With a single step forward, he grabbed her, and pulled her into his embrace. For a moment, it seemed like it was only to inhale the scent of her, to rub his cheek on her hair, to run his hands up and down her body. But then she tipped her face up and with a heated brown gaze, he dropped his mouth onto hers.
Her world spun. Her body clenched. Her heart tripled its cadence. His mouth was open, and his tongue slid into her mouth with efficiency and passion. It was an onslaught, a sensual attack that she never wante
d to end. She moaned and whimpered, his mouth drawing in her sounds like it was food for his starving soul. His licked, teased, and kissed her until she was wholly consumed with thoughts of him.
“Elli, Elli,” he groaned. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.”
She heard the words. She knew the implication and didn’t care. For once in her life, she was going to go for something. He obviously wanted her. She could feel his rock-hard erection pressing into her belly, and she desperately wanted to touch it, and feel him inside of her. She could feel her own wetness between her thighs. While her mind was still whirring with the thought that the wolf that she cared for was actually a hot-blooded, sexy human male. She knew that she wanted him. She wanted him like nothing else she’d ever felt before, and she was sick of playing it safe.
With a move that was completely unpracticed but surprisingly natural, she leaned back, grabbed the hem of her white shirt and lifted the fabric, slowly exposing her skin to his hungry gaze. His brown eyes tracked the progress of the shirt, but he remained patient and let her do it on her own. When she pushed it past her white lace bra and up over her shoulders, she heard him let out a groan of pleasure. She smiled to herself as she lifted it off her head, took her hair out of a ponytail to let it flow freely, and let the shirt drop onto the ground.
He just looked at her for a few moments before plunging his hands into her hair and pulling it back to expose her neck to his hungry mouth. She whimpered as his hot mouth was on her, trailing down her collarbone to the tops of her breasts. She reached behind her and released the bra strap, effectively letting her nipple fall into his mouth. When he bit down, she let out a breathy scream.
Keaton wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t careful. This was war, and she was being taken over by him. She’d never felt anything like this before. His mouth and hands were everywhere on her body; teasing, toying, playing. His thumb rolled one hard nipple while his mouth sucked on the other. Her entire body was strung taught on the edge of desire and release.
He kneeled down on his good knee, and pushed her leggings down to reveal innocent white lace panties. He reached out and tongued her clit through them and she stumbled backward, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her head fell back, enjoying the tender ministrations of his tongue through the lace. Her body started to tremble. He pulled over one side of her panties and then licked a hot, wet line from bottom to top. When his tongue started to circle, she lost it.
In an explosion of desire and intense arousal, her body shook and her mind exploded with glitter and light. At some point during her orgasm, he thrust a single finger into her and her body clenched around that finger like she wanted to do to with him inside of her. He smiled with satisfaction feeling her release.
When she was spent, he grabbed her and carried her into his room. He set her down on the bed. For a moment, he just looked at her, taking in her nearly transparent panties and her body laid bare. She trembled as he stared.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he confessed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ve wanted you so bad.”
He had?
“I’ve dreamt about you every single night, picturing you here, in my bed. Now you’re finally here. I’m never letting you leave,” he warned in a low voice.
Without waiting for her to respond, he thrust the towel off, exposing himself to her. It was her turn to take him in, and she committed it to memory. It was masculine and sort of beautiful. Long, thick, and hard, it was a testament to the honesty of his words. He wanted her.
While he stared, she gathered up the courage to do something she’d never done before. She sat up and tilted forward until she was on all fours on the bed, facing him. Slowly, she moved forward towards him until she was at the end of the bed. His eyes were blazing.
She caught his gaze and refused to look away. Then she leaned forward, drawing him into the heat of her mouth without any foreplay. He sighed while his eyes closed and his head rolled back. “Fuck yes.”
She slid her mouth down his shaft, sucking in as she pulled away. His body shook, attempting to control himself, and she took that as a good sign to keep going. She started a careful onslaught, drawing him in and out. When her fingers started to caress his balls, he let out a shaky exhale. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
She released with a pop and then swirled her tongue around the head. Stifling another groan, he reached down and picked her up without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around his neck. One of his hands slid into her hair while the other wrapped around her lower back, pressing her carefully against him. She took care not to move around and hurt his wound, but he didn’t bothered by it.
“I’m sorry, I can’t wait,” he admitted. She could feel the tip of his erection begging entrance into the legs wrapped around him.
“Please,” she whimpered, and he didn’t wait for any other permission. He slid into her with a hot stroke that had her crying out. “Oh god, yes!”
Keaton bit back an expletive that would’ve made her blush. Sinking inside of her was the best feeling of his entire life. It was like shifting, but way, way better. He fought the urge to release inside of her after only one stroke. Instead, he started a rhythm of thrusts that had her crying, whimpering, and screaming with pleasure.
His little angel was actually a vixen, a temptress. Her mouth on him had been the hottest fucking thing he’d ever felt…until now. He could feel the start of her orgasm as her walls started to tremble and her legs started to shake.
Burying himself into the hilt, he groaned as she started to clench around him, her body liberating into another orgasm. Unable to wait, he released inside of her moments later. His body pounded cum into her, inside of her. He felt masculine satisfaction knowing that he’d marked her as his. She was his and he was never going to let her go.
On shaky legs, he moved closer to the bed and set her down on it, then carefully laid beside her. She moved away from him, worrying about his wound, but he didn’t allow it, He pulled her back into the safety of his arms. He didn’t care about the pain in his leg. He just needed her
For the first time in a week, he passed out into a dreamless sleep.
He woke up to the smell of bacon. He stretched out and noticed that a bandage had been carefully placed on his stomach wound. He felt an amazing peace and satisfaction. What a great fucking morning.
He couldn’t even be mad that she had left the clutches of his arms sometime ago to make breakfast. They made love three more times between last night and the wee hours of this morning. She should be tired and sore. Instead, he could see her through the opening of his master bedroom in the kitchen, humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar, and making breakfast in one of his t-shirts. Something about that resounded in him: his place, his food, his clothes, and his woman. She would always be his, even if she didn’t know it yet.
He stood up, not minding his own nakedness and assumed after last night and this morning, Ellison wouldn’t either. He walked silently into the kitchen. While she stirred a pan of eggs, he reached out her, placing both of his oversized hands onto her breasts through his shirt.
She gasped, and then leaned back, pressing her body into his. “Keaton!”
He grinned into her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. “Morning.”
“Morning, Sir. How did you sleep?” She continued to stir the eggs, but his body froze. She seemed to notice his stillness. “What? What is it?”
“Say it again,” he demanded in a deep voice. He felt her body tremble.
“Say what?” she asked carefully. He squeezed her breasts tightly, and a moan slid out through her open lips.
“Say it,” he commanded, needing to hear the words again.
In a small, quiet voice, she repeated, “Morning, Sir.”
He spun her around, letting the wooden spoon drop to the floor and the breakfast go unnoticed. He picked her up and sat her on the granite countertop of the island. “Again.”
“Sir,” she breathed.
He lost it
. Something about the implications of the sultry endearment had gotten to him. It was an admission that she had accepted not only the man he was, but the wolf inside of him as well. It was as if her mind had clicked that he was both her friend and her lover. He was her protector, in both animal and human bodies.
He pulled her to the edge and sucked on her sweet pussy as he licked, sucked, and fucked her with his tongue and fingers. She was writhing and screaming by the time he was done, begging for him his cock inside of her. But he wanted this, needed this. He forced two orgasms out of her before picking her up taking her into the living room.
“Turn around,” he ordered. She stood, then turned around to face the back of the couch. Her body was still trembling in a good way. He knew everything about her body now. It was his playground, his property. He knew every whimper, every moan, and every taste on all parts of her body.
He pushed her slightly forward so that she was leaning on the back of the couch; her hips and rear jutting out like a tasty offering. And it was. He took her up on her offering, kneeling down and reaching up to lick the juice from her pussy. He moaned into her, the vibration causing a sensation that drove her wild. When she started to shake again, he stood, pushing her over even farther until he was bent over her.
He drove his erection into her. At the first feel of his stiff cock inside of her, she clamped down on him in a way that drove him mindless with lust. It was like she was made for him. Every motion of her body set off a trigger inside of him. Her orgasms drove his, her moans pulled groans from inside of his body.
After five minutes of control, he lost it and released rope after rope of cum into her. He enjoyed seeing evidence of his desire on her body, but right now, he needed it to be inside of her. He knew that she wanted it. Without words, last night she’d offered herself to him in a way that he knew was forever. He didn’t want to scare her with grandiose words of the future, but now found himself unwilling to let it go unspoken.
“I love you,” he admitted into the soft skin of her neck. He felt the walls of her pussy contract as she heard the words.