by Lynn Lorenz
Duke parted her nether lips and stroked the nub of her swollen sex, traced her petals and lowered his head to inhale her fragrance. Splaying the plump sides open, he licked her.
Sam moaned, “Oh God, Duke.” She wove her fingers in his hair.
Another lick and she writhed in pleasure. He wanted to bring her to orgasm, let her relax and then make her come again as he took her. He settled over her, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her to him and tasted each fold, each petal. His tongue circled lower until at last he found the portal.
Rich, delicious, her flavor danced over his palate. Sam’s essence was exotic, foreign, a gift from far-flung lands. Heady, powerful, captivating, everything about her mesmerized him.
He didn’t care if she’d cast a spell on him or not, as long as she loved him and would let him love her. He would worship her.
She was his mate.
He nipped at her nubbin, licking it to soothe it, then resumed stroking it with his tongue. Her fingers dug into his scalp as she pushed him down into her sex. Her body tensed beneath his hands, her hips jerked, and with a shudder that traveled through her, she sang out his name as she came.
He inhaled one last time, and raised his head to stare into her eyes.
“Now, please, Duke.” She pulled him to her.
Duke rolled onto her, his hands braced on either side of her head, his knees between her legs. His swollen rod brushed her soft belly. A shock of arousal rocked his body and his cock jerked against his belly.
Their gazes locked. Sam’s eyes shone, a perfect image of the moon reflected in them, wide, dark, drawing him down into their depths. Her dark hair fanned out beneath her on the blanket, her fair skin luminescent.
Her pulse throbbed at her throat, her breath short and shallow as she waited for him to fill her.
He guided his cock to her opening and felt the warmth and wetness of her core bathe his tip. “Christ,” he groaned, as his sac pulled tighter. He had to hold on until he got inside her, but she made it next to impossible.
“Take me, Duke.” Transparent need drove her words home to him. She wasn’t hiding from him anymore. She’d take what he had to give and accept him as her mate.
Easing in, he penetrated her in agonizingly slow progress.
Beneath him, her body tensed, then opened to him. He slipped deep inside her with a cry of sweet pleasure.
Surrounded by her softness, like wet silk, her tunnel captured him, holding him tight. If she squeezed, he’d lose it.
That knowledge got him moving and he pulled out in one long, fluid stroke. She whimpered, needy little noises that drove him wild. Unable to control himself, he took her.
She’d never been loved like this before. Robert was a pale memory, fading fast. All she wanted and needed was Duke.
He thrust into her, powerful strokes that rocked her body, each push inside her pressed against that one spot, drove her upward, and she spiraled into a place she’d so seldom been.
He gathered her up in his arms, their bodies completely joined. Her feet found purchase on his calves as her legs spread wider for him. Opening herself to him, physically and emotionally, had been hard, but once done, she couldn’t remember why she’d resisted.
This was where she belonged.
She was a witch and the lifemate of a werewolf.
His hips jackhammered into her, driving his cock deeper, over and over, wringing shudders of ecstasy from her. She’d never felt such pleasure before, never felt so aroused. Reaching the apex of her climb, she hung, suspended in that precious, fleeting moment.
Then she exploded, her sex spasming, as waves breached her last walls. Magic spilled over the lovers and a thousand tiny blue stars danced around them in the glade and in the sky, making it impossible to tell where one started and the other ended. She floated as Duke loved her.
Shouting his name, she plummeted back to earth.
Duke shook as Sam’s orgasm tore through her, the walls of her sex milking his cock, forcing it to give her what she needed. His sac tightened and he felt the building of his cum in his balls, unbearable fullness as if he’d explode, then the sweet agony of its rush down his rod as his seed shot into her in the timeless quest for its home.
“Sam. Oh God, Sam,” he whispered. Shaking, he collapsed to the side, pulling her over to rest on him as the sparks around them faded.
They clung to each other as if to let go was to die.
Overhead, stars rested on black velvet and moonbeams illuminated the glade.
Duke leaned over and kissed her belly. Sam smiled up at him. She could see the concern in his eyes.
“It’ll be a boy, right?” she asked.
His eyes closed and he rubbed his face against her soft skin. His rough stubble felt good, masculine. Just right. She stroked his shoulder with her fingertips.
“Probably.” He bit his lip. “We should have waited until we’re married.”
“No. This was right.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Timing is everything.”
“Timing?”
“How much more perfect for the son of a witch and a werewolf to be conceived on Halloween, under a second moon?” She kissed his lips.
He laughed, and held her close. “Oh, Sam. I knew you were the one.”
“I knew it, too. I just wouldn’t accept it.” She sighed.
“You saved my life.”
“You gave me mine, so we’re even,” she said.
“Think we should get back?”
“In a little while. I want to just lay here with my wolf.”
Duke closed his eyes and called the wolf.
He sat on his haunches, proud, a magnificent creature, keeping guard over her.
She ran her fingers through his fur and not a single hair came out.
Sam smiled, looked up into the sky and silently gave thanks again to her grandmother, to her sister Jane, and to the second moon.
It had chased her straight into the arms of love and a new life.
She scratched behind his ears and the wolf whimpered.
“We’re a fine match, Duke. A witch and a werewolf.”
The wolf gave a low woof of agreement and rested his head on her belly. He would protect her from all harm, keep her safe from any danger.
Nobody fucks with the mate of a werewolf.
The End
About the Author:
Lynn Lorenz lives in Katy, Texas with her husband, two kids and a sweet, but neurotic dog. She’s been writing with her heart set on publication for three years. To her, it’s the heart that matters, and she believes that if you open your mind, the heart will follow.
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