54
I back up, even though my ovaries rev their engines.
You’re close to ovulation. Who says that? A werewolf, I suppose.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
His lips twist in a wry grin. “I know what helps me relax…”
“Oh no.” I dart to the side to avoid his grasp.
He moves shockingly fast for a man his size, snatching me up by the waist and swinging me around as I kick uselessly. “What did I tell you about running from a wolf?” he growls, his breath hot against my ear.
“Stop it! Put me-” I gasp when he rubs the seam of my yoga pants roughly against my clit. My pussy spasms with pleasure.
“You know you want this.” The rumble of his words reverberate from his chest right to my core. “You’ve known since the first night we met it’s an inevitability.”
I lean my head back against him. “No, I don’t,” I lie, a giggle leaving my throat as I thrash. I don’t even know why I fight him, except out of indignation at his cocksure certainty.
“Oh yes you do. You think I can’t smell every time your pussy gets wet for me?”
I go still, contemplating that. How many times have I been wet for him since the day we met? And he’s known? Every time? Eek.
I close my mouth on a moan as he continues to thrill my pussy with his rough pawing through my yoga pants.
“You can keep lying to me and yourself, but this responsive little body of yours always tells the truth.” He manages to pin me back against his chest and slide a hand up my shirt, his palm cupping my breast and squeezing.
I arch with a cry of pleasure.
He pinches the stiffened bud of my nipple between his fingers and rolls it, while the digits of his other hand continue to pulse against my clit, grinding the seam of my pants against it. “Did you think I missed every time these little nipples got hard, or the way your eyes dilate when you’re thinking about what would happen if-no, when, you’re finally claimed by the big bad wolf?”
My first mini-orgasm shoots through me, a shudder he surely feels. So much for pretending I don’t want it.
He bends his knee and brings it up between my legs, holding my weight while he moves, freeing both hands to grasp the waistband of my pants.
“Don’t,” I squeak, but my voice sounds far more wanton than serious.
“Say yes,” he murmurs in my ear.
“I’m not… I don’t…” I moan at the sheer pleasure he’s eliciting in my nether regions.
“You need it.”
He slides the flat of his hand down the front of my pants and cups my mound. I jerk the moment his hot fingers touch my wet pussy, and I wrap my hand around behind myself to hold his neck.
He slows down, tilting me back on his knee and running one digit up and down the length of my weeping slit. “Say yes,” he murmurs. He bites my ear. “And I’ll let you come.”
“Let me come?”
No one lets me come. I come when I… my eyes roll back in my head as his thick fingers part my labia and explore my inner pleats. Jesus, his index finger is as thick as some men’s cocks. I want it inside me.
As if reading my mind, he slides it in, alone, first, then with his middle finger, filling and stretching me, stroking the inside of my wanton pussy.
I claw the back of his neck, fighting like a cat in heat, which he doesn’t seem to mind.
“That’s right, princess. Let you come.” He abruptly removes his digits and taps my clit lightly. “Or do you want me to leave you all wound up like this?”
“I-I could finish on my own.” Technically, it’s true. Although it wouldn’t be half so satisfying.
He lowers his knee, dropping my feet to the floor.
“Yes,” I bark in a hurry, all pride dissolving when faced with the loss of his hot hands on my body. “I said yes.”
He chuckles and picks me up. “Good girl,” he murmurs in my ear as he carries me to the bedroom and tosses me onto the bed like a rag doll.
I prop myself on my elbows, watching him crawl up over me, his cock bulging against his jeans, his expression ravenous. “I’m going to make you come so hard you scream.”
Arrogant much? But then, he probably has reason to be confident. A man-or wolf-whatever, who looks like him probably has girls throwing themselves at him on a regular basis.
He grabs my pants on either side and yanks them down, tearing my panties off in the process and throwing them both over his shoulder. Grasping my knees, he parts them and bends them up, opening me to him. “I did promise you a reward.”
I gasp at the shock of vulnerability, of having my most intimate parts spread and displayed for his close inspection. He brings the pad of his thumb to my clit, just rests it there, as if he knows I need a moment to calm down and get used to his touch.
“Lace your fingers together behind your head.”
I stare at him, my brain slow to process his words. When he arches a stern brow, I force my mind to replay his words and bring my hands out of the way. The position increases my sense of exposure, but I immediately forget when Garrett brings the tip of his tongue to the seam of my labia, parting the lips and running along the inside of each before circling my clit. Already on fire, I jerk at the touch, bucking.
He holds my pelvis down with one huge hand and penetrates me with his tongue, his thumb returning to my engorged clit and gently vibrating.
I lose my breath in a cry, hands flying down to push his head away, the sensation too much.
“Uh uh,” he scolds, abruptly stopping all his ministrations. “What did I tell you about your hands?”
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, desperate for him to go on-as desperate as I’d been for him to stop a moment before.
He pulls his knees up underneath him and sits up, grabbing my ankles and lifting them into the air.
“What are you- Ow!”
Garrett transfers both my ankles to one hand and slaps my ass with the other one-hard. He rubs away the sting then lands another one and another. They aren’t gentle, light spanks, but hard and deliberate, catching my bulging labia and exposed sex with each slap, his palm coming away wet with my juices. The fire he ignites is more than surface sting; it comes from my very core.
Even so, I fight him, kick my legs, though they barely move in his grasp.
It’s horrible and incredible at once. I’m helpless, but, for once in my life, I’m not fighting for control. I let him have it. Let him punish me because I know what’s coming next.
Pleasure.
Pure, unadulterated pleasure.
“Little girls who disobey get punished, don’t they baby?” I hear pure sex in his voice, and I moan in response. “What’s that, angel?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t even know what makes me say it. It’s not like I watch BDSM porn or know anything about being spanked by a lover, but it just comes out.
He growls, eyes turning silver. “Oh, baby. You have me harder than stone.”
As I writhe and wriggle under the onslaught of his hand, I’m suddenly desperate to help him with his harder-than-stone cock. How much would fit in my mouth?
He stops spanking, and I let out a soft, low moan. He lifts my ankles even higher in the air and plants a kiss on each raw cheek before lowering my pelvis.
I tuck my hands underneath, cupping my hot, tingling buttocks, still panting from the punishment. Of their own accord, my knees part and pelvis lifts in offering.
He chuckles. “What are we going to do about these hands?”
I immediately snatch them away, my ass giving a reminder pulse of what happens when I disobey. I both want and don’t want more of the same. “Sorry, sir.”