Trailing a hand down her torso, grinning with savage satisfaction as she arched into his touch, he let his fingers trail at the bottom of her sweater, teasing it upwards.
“Exactly how many layers are you wearing?” he purred into her ear.
“Lots,” she panted, squirming. He bit back a snarl as her movements unknowingly brushed against his aching cock, damnably still trapped inside his trousers. “The h-hiking guide said it was b-best to…ahh,” she breathed out hard as his fingers finally found a thin seam of soft skin, nudging her clothes upwards. “B-best to layer up. We’re…we’re in Alaska, after all.”
He leaned down, kissing along her jaw, hand splaying out across her stomach. “I see.”
He wasn’t gentle as he ripped the layers, from sweater to sports bra, straight down the middle, revealing the pale expanse of creamy flesh of her torso.
“Hey!” she gasped, instinctively moving to cover herself.
He caught her hands again, pinning them with a growl. “Don’t. I want to look at you. If you’re mad about the clothes, I’ll buy you new ones.”
Any further complaints she had died on her tongue as his mouth trailed down to one pebbled nipple, catching it in his teeth, rolling his tongue over it. She gasped and writhed, straining against his hold.
His wolf howled in delight.
He could smell how ready she was for him, how eager. Her body had changed in the years since he’d last had her; she was slightly wider, softer, and somehow impossibly more beautiful.
Rearing back, he grasped the waistband of her sensible hiking trousers and tugged, pulling them clean off, along with two layers of thermals.
He smirked. She really had read a hiking guide.
Any amusement faded away, replaced with only hard, insistent need as he looked at her splayed out beneath him. A feast ready to be devoured.
She whimpered under the intensity of his gaze, thighs trembling as they pressed together, hands twitching with her no doubt pressing desire to cover herself up.
Smirking, he leant down and captured her lips, breathing against them, “I want you to touch yourself.”
She inhaled sharply, “What?”
“I said,” he replied, one hand reaching down to unbutton his jeans, “I want to see you touch yourself.”
He pushed back, smirking down at the heat in her cheeks, the flush spreading down to her chest. She couldn’t hide herarousal. Even if he hadn’t been a wolf, couldn’t smell the sweet musk of her body preparing itself for him, he’d be able to see it. It was in the catch of her breath, the swell of her breasts, the pounding of her heart.
The heat in her gaze.
Slowly, brave enough to keep eye contact, she let her thighs fall apart, exposing her core to his hungry gaze.
He nearly groaned as she slowly trailed a hand down her stomach, flesh trembling, and hesitantly rubbed the pad of her middle finger through her dampening folds.
“That’s it,” he said, shucking off his trousers, kicking them somewhere behind him, “like you would if you were alone. Late at night.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her lips fell open as her fingers moved faster, bumping over her swollen clit. He watched her movements, grasping his cock in a tight fist, pumping slowly. Her other hand drifted to her breast, where she tweaked her nipple, gasping lightly at the sensation.
He growled, low and hungry.
“Who do you think about,” he said, leaning down over her, “when you touch yourself?”
Her eyes didn’t open. “You. Always you. Only you.”
His alpha roared triumphantly, and he grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. Her eyes flew open in shock, and she swallowed as she glanced down at his engorged length, comically large against the delicate skin of her thigh.
“Come on, now,” he purred, “you managed to take it once before.”
She sucked in a breath, thighs spreading further. It didn't seem she had purposefully done it; it was just her body, ready, waiting.
He leant down and kissed her, thorough and warm, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance.
