“Hearing you call my name, in your sleep, fuck… I’ve been hard for hours.”
His scent envelops me, intensifying the fever burning through my veins.
I cling to him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact.
When we break apart, both breathing hard, his eyes search mine, checking that I’m still on board. That I still want this.
“You’re burning up,” he murmurs, his palm cool against my cheek.
“Then help me cool down.” I challenge, pulling at the hem of my T-shirt.
He pulls it off in one fluid motion and stares at my breasts reverently before reaching out to cup them and take their weight. His sharp intake of breath as he sees me bare from the waist up sends a thrill through me.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up my ribs. His gaze is hungry and appreciative, making me feel beautiful despite everything.
I arch into his touch, a moan escaping my lips as his thumb brushes over my nipple.
He lowers his head, replacing fingers with his mouth, and the wet heat of his tongue sends pleasure spiraling through me.
I toss my head back. Every touch is absolute bliss as he explores my skin, my nipples, exactly how I like to be touched. My palms run back up, mapping the contours of his body, enjoying the contrast between hard muscle and soft skin.
I marvel at the strength beneath my fingers, the heat of his body. When I reach the waistband of his boxers and dip my finger just under the edge, he groans against my breast; the vibration adding another layer to the sensation.
“These need to go,” I say, tugging at the fabric.
He helps me, stripping off in one movement, then helping me wiggle out of the borrowed sweatpants. And then we’re both naked, skin to skin, heat to heat.
The relief is immediate and overwhelming. My wolf howls in triumph as Billy covers my body with his, the weight and warmth of him exactly what I’ve been craving. His hardness presses against my thigh, unmistakable evidence of his desire.
His mouth finds mine again, the kiss deeper, hungrier. His hand slides between us, fingers trailing down my stomach, lower, until he touches me where I’m wet and ready for him.
“Christ, Carla,” he groans against my lips. “You’re soaked.”
I can’t respond, can only gasp as he slides one finger inside me, then another, his thumb circling the bundle of nerves that makes my hips buck against his hand.
The pleasure builds quickly. My body is primed and desperate for release. When it hits, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. A wave crashes over me, through me, leaving me trembling and crying out his name.
But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.
“Billy.” I gasp, reaching between us to wrap my fingers around his thick length. “I need you. Now.”
His eyes meet mine once again, checking for any hesitation. Finding none, he positions himself between my thighs, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance.
He waits, drawing out the anticipation into sweet agony.
“Please,” I beg, lifting my hips in invitation.
He pushes forward slowly, filling me, inch by exquisite inch, until he’s fully seated within me. We both freeze, adjusting to thesensation, the perfect fullness. His head falls forward, forehead resting against mine, our breathing mingling as a whirlwind of emotion and pleasure courses through me.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.
“More than okay,” I assure him, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him even deeper. “Move, Billy. Please, move.”
He withdraws almost completely before thrusting back in, setting a rhythm that has me gasping with each stroke. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he drives into me, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside, that sends sparks of pleasure through my entire body.
My nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his skin which my wolf rejoices to see. Marking him, claiming him, even in this small way.
The room disappears. The storm outside fades to nothing.
