Page 56 of Lupo


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She gasps as my fingers find her, and the sound goes straight to my cock. I’m pressed against her hip, wanting her with an intensity that should frighten me. Maybe it does. But not enough to stop.

“Lupo.”

“Tell me to stop and I will.” I kiss down her neck, her shoulder. “But God, Isabella, I need you again. Already.”

“Then take me.” Her legs open for me, inviting.

The trust in her words, in that gesture, it nearly undoes me. But I force myself to go slow. To be careful. To keep the tight control I have on whatever darkness lives inside me.

This time, I’m going to explore her.

I slide down her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach. Her collarbone. The valley between her breasts. Her ribs. The soft curve of her stomach. She’s trembling under my touch, her breath coming faster.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is shaky.

“Learning you.” I kiss her hip bone, then lower. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare stop.”

I settle between her thighs, looking up at her. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly. She’s beautiful. And she’s mine.

The possessive thought should worry me. Should make me question what kind of man I am. But right now, I don’t care.

I lower my mouth to her and she gasps, her hips bucking up. I hold her down, my hands gripping her thighs, keeping her in place while I explore. I learn what makes her moan. What makes her gasp. What makes her fist her hands in the sheets.

When I find the spot that makes her cry out, I focus there. Circling. Sucking. Using my tongue and lips and even my teeth, careful at first, then less so as she writhes beneath me.

“Lupo.” She’s panting now. “Oh God, Lupo, I’m—”

“Let go,” I murmur against her. “I’ve got you.”

She shatters beautifully, her whole body tensing, then releasing. I work her through it, gentling my touch as she comes down, until she’s boneless and gasping.

Then I kiss my way back up her body. Slowly. Taking my time.

When I reach her mouth, she kisses me desperately, tasting herself on my lips.

“Inside me,” she whispers. “Please. I need you inside me.”

I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against slick heat. “Tell me if it’s too much. If you’re too sensitive or sore.”

“I’m not.” She wraps her legs around my waist, trying to pull me in. “Please.”

I push inside slowly, watching her face. Looking for any sign of discomfort. Any hint that this is too much, too soon. But she just moans, her head falling back, her body accepting me.

“God, you feel good.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “So perfect. Like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” she breathes.

I start to move. Slow, deep thrusts. Savoring every sensation. Every small sound she makes. Every flutter of her inner walls around me.

But the beast living inside me is restless. It wants more. It wants to take. To claim.

“Harder,” she whispers. “I can take it. I want it.”

“Isabella…” It’s a warning. A plea.

“I trust you.” Her eyes lock on mine. “Let go. Stop holding back.”