She was already wet.Her arousal running down her thighs.
I stroked through her folds, spreading the slickness, finding the bundle of nerves at her center and circling it with my thumb.Her hips jerked against my hand, chasing the pressure.
“This is what you are to me,” I said, my voice rough.“This.A body that responds when I touch it.A cunt that gets wet when I walk into the room.”
She should have flinched.Should have looked hurt, ashamed, reminded of her place.
Instead, she moaned and pressed herself harder against my hand.
“Then touch me,” she breathed.“If that’s all I am, then touch me.”
I slid two fingers inside her, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed.Tight.So fucking tight around my fingers.Hot and wet and clenching as I curled them forward, finding that spot that made her gasp.
I should have been watching her body.Cataloging her responses.Using them against her.
Instead, I watched her face.
The way her eyes fluttered closed.The way her lips parted on a broken sound.The way she didn’t hide from the pleasure, didn’t try to resist it or be ashamed of it.She just let herself feel.Trusted me enough to let go.
My cock was hard against the constraint of my pants, aching to be inside her.To claim her the way my wolf demanded.To bury myself so deep she’d never get me out.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I added a third finger, stretching her, and bent to take her nipple in my mouth.Sucked it while my fingers worked her, while my thumb rubbed relentless circles over her clit.Her hands found my hair, tangling in it, pulling me closer.Her scent surrounded me now, arousal and sweetness and trust, and I breathed her in like a man starving for air.
“Raphael.Oh God.Raphael, please?—”
“Come,” I growled against her breast.“Come on my hand.Let me feel you fall apart.”
She shattered.
Her cunt clamped down on my fingers, pulsing, milking, while her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm.She cried out my name.Just my name, over and over, and I felt the last of my resistance give way.
I withdrew my fingers, slick with her release, and stood from the bed.My hands went to my belt before I could think better of it.The leather hissed through the loops.I unbuttoned my pants, shoved them down my hips, and freed my cock.
I was so hard it hurt.The head was flushed dark, leaking, and when I wrapped my fist around the shaft and stroked, the slickness of her arousal coated me like a brand.
Yes, the wolf growled.Mark her.Make her smell like us.
She watched me from the pillows, her chest still heaving, her thighs still trembling from the aftershocks.Those blue eyes fixed on my hand, on my cock, on the way I stroked myself with her wetness.
“This is what you do to me.What you’ve done since the first moment I scented you.”
I should have turned away.Should have finished in the bathroom like a civilized man.
Instead, I planted one knee on the bed and stroked harder, faster, my fist tight around my cock, her arousal and my precum mixing into something obscene.Her scent surrounded me.Apples and cream and sex.I breathed her in and felt the pressure building at the base of my spine.
“Raphael.”She said my name like a prayer.Like a question.The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
I came with a groan I couldn’t suppress.Hot ropes of cum splattered across her stomach, her ribs, marking the pale canvas of her skin.The wolf howled in satisfaction.Mine.Ours.Claimed.
I stared at her, at my release glistening on her body, and felt a shift I couldn’t name.
Ours, the wolf purred.She wears our scent now.Everyone will know.
I should have felt satisfied.Dominant.In control.
Then she moved.
