by Hettie Ivers
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know,” he acknowledged, pressing a tender kiss to the smooth skin of my bare mound. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t look sorry. “You did that on purpose!”
“Well—yes.” His smirk was that of the devil. “I’m happy to accidentally eat you to orgasm next, if you prefer?”
“I hate you.”
He hummed in accord, peppering kisses along my pelvic bone. “So you’ve said. I’m sorry.”
Ugh! “Sorry” would never again hold the same meaning for me. I probably wouldn’t be able to hear the word without getting wet.
“It’s not fair,” I complained, “that you can do that”—I swallowed—“so well.”
“Never claimed to play fair, princess. You could’ve told me to stop,” he pointed out gently, his face nuzzling my quaking belly. “I would’ve stopped.”
“I couldn’t. And you know it.”
“Couldn’t you?” Black eyes regarded me with thinly feigned innocence.
“You’re evil,” I rebuked through chattering teeth.
“I’m sorry.” His body rose up over mine, his heat soothing my goose-pimpled flesh as ravenous eyes scorched every square inch. “Would you like me to stop?”
He hadn’t removed his fingers. His thumb settled upon my throbbing pulse point. I caught the challenge in his eyes and willed my own eyes not to cross as his thumb depressed.
I bit my trembling lip and stubbornly shook my head. His lips curved into a smile of admiration that made my heart catch.
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Did I scare you?”
His thumb rolled. I nodded as the air rushed from my lungs. “A little.”
“I’m sorry.” His lips brushed repentantly over my eyelids. After a pause he whispered, “Did you enjoy being scared?”
I groaned and smacked his chest. He retaliated by kissing me thoroughly on the mouth until I was struggling for air and fighting for self-possession yet again. It was strange, although not unpleasant, to taste myself on his lips.
“Perhaps you should take control now?” he suggested in a seductive rasp as he kissed and licked my neck. “I think your she-wolf wants to play.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Mm-mmm—sure you do.” His teeth scraped down the side of my throat. “I can feel her just beneath the surface, trying to come out. Be nice and let her off her leash for just a little while, hmm? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I … I’m not afraid.” Was I?
His fingers were rocking inside of me, curling inward at a slight angle every few strokes until they hit a spot just above my pubic bone that stole my breath and my train of thought. What the?
“I just—I don’t know how … to let her out.”
“Would you like help?”
Would I? I wasn’t sure I even knew what he was talking about. And dear Lord, what was that spot he was hitting now? He wasn’t suggesting I literally wolf out, was he?
“Ooh, God … ahh … Alex … I don’t know …” My fingers locked around the corded muscles of his neck, urging him closer. “Don’t think I’m ready. You know—to change.”
“Move against me,” he instructed in my ear. “Set the pace.”
“Umm … ugh … huh?”
“You’re in charge.”
My she-wolf’s ears perked up at that. Fuck. I jerked into his hand and my nails dug into his flesh.
“She’s not ready either, baby,” he assured me in answer to my last coherently voiced concern. “We won’t let her out all the way. Just enough so you can feel her—get to know her. And I can make sure her heat cycle needs are being taken care of as well as yours.”
“That’s okay? I mean, that’s normal—to do that?” My hips took up a bashful rhythm, circling and lifting into his fingers. “Safe?”
“Completely.”
“Ooh!” I gasped as he applied more pressure on the next pass he made against the mysterious place he’d uncovered. “What is that? I can’t breathe when you do that.”
“Your G-spot. Sorry, I’ll stop.”
“No, wait! I mean, it feels … different, but I didn’t mean you had to stop … necessarily. I just meant—” His shoulders were shaking. I swatted him on the back of the head. “Quit laughing at my expense!”
“Laughing at your expense?” he balked. “Sweetheart, I’m grasping at my eroding sanity here,” he said with a laugh. “You think it’s funny feeling my dick flex and leak pre-cum each time your hot, slick pussy squeezes around my fingers like it’s a damn fist?”
Wow. No comeback in my repertoire for that one.
He growled deep in his chest, his eyes admonishing me when his coarse words caused my pussy to clench in response—exactly as he’d described.
“Fuck, my balls are so heavy and tight they feel like they’re about to fall off.” The crooked smile he gave me was strained. And a bit sinister. “I need your wolf to come now, princess.”
It was sounding less like a suggestion. “My own wolf feels better with each orgasm you have.” He leaned up over me, shifting his weight onto the elbow of his free arm. “And by extension, the whole pack feels better with every orgasm you have.”
It was my turn to look indignant. Although Bianca had indicated the same, the very idea that Reinoso pack werewolves throughout Alex’s vast estate and beyond might be getting some kind of vicarious relief as Alex got me off was unsettling on so many levels.
“Tell me that’s a sick joke?”
“Noo,” he chortled. “Right now the wellbeing—and perhaps sanity—of my entire pack rests upon your needs being met, and therefore on your ability to be selfish and have as many orgasms as possible. Think of it as an altruistic act of necessary selfishness on your part,” he proposed.
I narrowed my eyes. “Now you’re fucking with me, right?”
“Am I?” He gave me a dazzling grin. “I might be.”
“As a distraction from the pain in your balls?” I couldn’t resist. Though I did feel guilty when his features contorted in anguish.
“Yesss,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“So … in order for you and the rest of the pack to feel better, don’t you need to … err … relieve that?” My eyes boldly drifted below his waistline to the overwhelming evidence of his distress.
When it jerked at me in greeting, my eyes flew back up to the safety of Alex’s face. I wasn’t sure whether I was perversely bent on provoking him with such questions, or if my curiosity had just gotten the better of me at last.
“Mm … at some point,” he evaded.
“Wouldn’t it be better for the whole pack if you just, you know … relieved it now? With me?”
“Ye—no! No.”
“But why n—”
“Because I will not just fuck you, Milena!” he snapped, irritation bleeding into his tone as he cut me off.
I was lost. “But just days ago—”
“I want more,” he clarified, his eyes smoldering. “I want everything.”
“Oh?” was all I managed in reply. My cheeks felt hot, my throat dry. I was pretty sure all the fluid left in me had just rushed between my thighs to drench his hand. My hips were rocking into his fingers again.
“I want your friendship,” he spoke quietly in admission. “Your trust. I believe …” he confessed with a sigh, “I believe I’m going to require your whole heart.” I forgot to breathe as he continued his calm declaration. “And I want you to want to give it to me. All of it.”
God, how evil that he should say these things to me now! What the fucking twisted fuck?
He was planning to withhold sex from me—until I committed to deeper feelings for him? My foolish eyes watered. I bit my lip, trying to process it. “You—you’re so sick.”
“I am. I’m sorry, princess.”
“You know I can’t give you those things,” I blurted, although it rankled my she-wolf and made my heart hurt to say it.
“Yes,
you can,” he contradicted, like the smug, cocky bastard he was. “I already feel how much you want to.”
I shook my head in denial. His lips brushed over my forehead. I felt the smile blooming on them as my pelvis ground harder into his hand. Fuck, I was so turned on! His fingers had gone still—goading me to do all the work as my hips rolled into them at a frenzied pace.
The act felt so naughty—like I was selfishly using him as a masturbatory tool to get off. But I couldn’t stop.
“I can do this forever,” he said. “Wait as long as it takes for your sexual attraction to blossom into something more.”
“I hate you,” I panted, on the verge of orgasm. “Liked you better when you just wanted to screw me and deny I was your mate.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Well, I still like you.” Kissing my ear, he taunted in a conspiratorial whisper, “I especially like how hard you’re fucking my fingers. How wet and eager your pussy is to take my whole cock . . . ”
I came.
“That’s it … that’s my girl,” his deep voice resonated with approval as my back arched and my body contorted with pleasure. “Take what you need. You’re in control. So powerful …”
His words spoke directly to my inner wolf—provoking her, rousing her until I felt her presence closer to the surface than ever before.
And then his teeth sank into my neck. Hard enough to activate my she-wolf’s response to the point that I felt my own essence receding, my human sensibilities fading so much into the background it was as if I was becoming a passive observer within my own body—my own mind and heart.
It was alarming! Particularly in the face of my expanding awareness of her needs and desires.
Visions of climbing astride Alex and biting him back assailed me as he proceeded to suck my neck wound. I forced those visions aside—even as my she-wolf bayed in protest—gulping much needed air into my lungs as I focused instead on regaining a foothold within my own being.
“T-time out!” I shouted. Smooth. “I mean—stop.”
Alex’s head lifted from my neck. “I hurt you?”
“No. No, I just … need a break.” And water, I realized, swallowing against the dryness in my throat.
His brow furrowed. “Sore?”
I shook my head, but he looked doubtful.
“Sure?”
“Uh-huh. I’m just … feeling … I need a break.” I was gasping for air.
My hands ran over Alex’s shoulders, in what I hoped was a comforting gesture—both for him and my own inner animal. My she-wolf did not want a time-out.
I realized my human side didn’t want one either, truth be told, as I stared up at Alex’s concerned face. He truly was an inconceivably beautiful male specimen. It almost hurt to look at him.
It pained me even more when I felt his fingers slowly deserting me. I bit my lip too late to stifle the whimper that escaped.
“You are sore.”
Again, I tried to deny it—not wanting to explain the nonphysical, physical pain I was feeling—but his head disappeared between my thighs to assess the situation before I could get the words out.
Before I knew what was happening, his arms had hooked under my knees, lifting my pelvis off the ground. The lone pillow amongst our outdoor bedding, which had been carelessly tossed to the side at some point, magically moved of its own accord beneath me to prop my ass up as Alex lowered it back down.
Whoa! “Alex, no! You don’t need to … I’m not—”
“Milena, please? Let me?” It was the beseeching, distraught look he shot me that silenced my protest as it struck me just how much he really did worry about hurting me.
And fuck it, “concerned” was a sexy look on Alex that was hard to say no to.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I insisted. Yet I made no effort to stop him when he pressed my knees open and back to my shoulders, spreading me embarrassingly wide for his scrutiny while he spoke what sounded like shushing words to me in Portuguese.
What happened next felt like the dirtiest, most bizarre doctor play ever as Alex’s long fingers probed and palpated my soaked depths from my new and awkward, exposed position.
And I just let him.
Time stood still as I indulged his doctor routine. Because it was hot. Really hot.
Blood rushed to my aching, neglected bud as his fingers casually sank in and out to the knuckle, leaving me feeling uncomfortably stretched and making me reconsider whether I could ever actually take something more substantial than his two fingers inside me.
“So … there’s something I’ve been wondering about ever since Marissa and I bathed you,” he remarked in passing as he ran his thumb over the smooth, hairless skin of my spread outer lips. “Is this permanent?”
“Uhhh … yeah?” It wasn’t a question, but a fact. I seriously needed to stop answering in the form of questions. But right now I was merely impressed at my ability to speak at all.
He pursed his lips. “Really?” He seemed intrigued. Maybe somewhat surprised. But he proceeded in his focused examination of my sex, not so much as glancing up at me, his fingers rotating gradually inside of me, leaving not a millimeter of my slick, gripping channel uncharted. Oh, God, it was too much—and so not enough!
There was something unfathomably erotic about the manner in which he was so diligently inspecting me. The way he was fingering me in such a calm, exploratory fashion somehow had me hotter and gushing more fluid than when I’d known his touch to be intentionally arousing.
“I was on the swim team,” I offered breathlessly in explanation. “My friend Bethany and I both did it,” I expounded in order to distract myself from the cruel throbbing of my ignored clit. Fuck, I would probably orgasm if he just blew on it. “Her mom’s a dermatologist … she used one of those lasers … ”
When he nodded, but otherwise made no further comment, insecurity set in.
“Is it weird to you?” I asked, attempting, but totally failing to feign indifference.
He raised amused onyx eyes to me. “You’re in Brazil, sweetheart. The hairless trend’s not exactly unheard of.” The boyish grin he bestowed upon me made my whole body flush pink. “It’s just not what I would have expected from you, given some of your more—erm … prudish human tendencies.”
“Prudish?” I squawked, my eyes bugging wide. Nervous giggles beset me. “How can you even say that with a straight face right now? I’m spread eagle in an open forest, with you, a practical stranger, intimately inspecting my privates!”
His fingers halted inside of me. “I’m not a stranger.”
“You know what I mean, Alex. I’ve barely known you a week.” But please, please keep fingering me, stranger.
“I am not a stranger, Milena.” His tone was firm, his eyes suddenly flinty.
My she-wolf begged me not to argue, but I couldn’t let it go. “Okay, fine. You’ve known me a whole week, therefore not a total stranger. But let’s not forget you spent the first half of that week wishing you’d never laid eyes on me and bemoaning the fact that you couldn’t simply kill me off.”
His frown deepened to a scowl. “I never wanted to kill you, Milena.”
“Did so!” I laughed, ignoring his dour countenance. And the pained cry of my ignored clit.
“No, I did not.”
“Alex, you did!” How could he be so ludicrous as to deny it? As if I wouldn’t remember? “You hated me on sight,” I recounted, “and wanted to kill me.”
“No,” he growled, his irises flashing amber, “I didn’t. I behaved like an asshole, but I swear upon my life I’d have ripped my own heart out before I would have ever caused you true harm.”
My breath caught. I could feel his anger, his mounting frustration with me. But when I felt the pull of his fingers deep inside of me as they began to withdraw, my own ire and frustration flared and my hands flew to his wrist to stop him.
“No!” I growled right back.
He raised one surprised, challenging eyebrow. “No?”
“No,” I
repeated, my heart hammering in my chest.
“No, what?” His feral eyes burned down at me, daring me to be brave. My belly coiled with renewed heat.
“No … you are not stopping now.”
“Oh, really?” He cocked his head. “I’m not?”
I gulped. “No.”
The hard line of his mouth cracked into a smile. “That an order, princess?”
I froze, staring up at him like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights—blinded by his alluring smile and those captivating golden irises. What was the right answer?
“You didn’t finish … checking everywhere …”
“I was very thorough, I promise you,” he contended. “And you wanted a break, remember? You’re thirsty. Hungry, too.”
How did he know that?
“I did—but then you … and now—ooh!” I gasped as his fingers thrust back inside of me.
“Make it a fucking order,” he rasped, “and I’ll do it. I’ll do any-fucking-thing you want me to, princess,” he enticed in an incongruously aggressive, gruff tone. “Show me your she-wolf, and I’ll be yours to command.”
Sweet Jesus! While the irony wasn’t lost on me that he was ordering me to command him, his coarse words were music to my slutty, power-hungry she-wolf’s ears. She scrambled to the forefront once more, making me redouble my efforts to restrain her, as I demanded, “Move your fingers … like you were doing … ”
He obliged, his hardened features softening when my eyes glazed over and my mouth hung open in a silent cry of bliss in response.
“Like this, princess?” he inquired coyly as he dragged them in and out of me. “This right?”
It was so much better than right! I nodded in approval as he filled and stretched me, his fingers making wet, sucking noises that were music to my ears as they twisted and rubbed against my inner walls at that tight angle until I was out of my mind with the need to release.
“Mouth,” I panted, brazenly yanking his hair by the roots as I tried to direct his head down between my thighs. “Need … mouth … ”
I wanted him to suck on my clit again. But it seemed harder to choke those words out—even if I could rationalize in my head that they came from my she-wolf.