His head falls back, and he grabs my ankle to keep me from retreating.
“Please,” he says, this time more sure of himself.
“Again,” I demand.
Grey crumples, rubbing his face against my thigh and clawing at me as he rocks his hips gently into the crest of my foot.
“Please, Iris. Pleeeease.”
He draws out the word until it grates on my nerves, and I sigh.
I have half a mind to deny him. Leave him pent up, lying stiff in his pants on the potion lab floor. But I’m starving, and it’s clear there’s no hope for my release. So, his will have to do.
“Ugh. Fine.”
His rhythmic grinding resumes, now at a more urgent pace. I stand there, arms crossed, waiting as he pleasures himself. Until eventually, his frantic thrusts and muffled grunting are replaced by a string of curses. And just as my ankle begins to ache, his body tenses, and he lets out a strangled, “Ohhh, fuuuck.”
His power swells, drawn together by the energy concentrated between his legs. I take it in, siphoning it off as he empties himself into his pants.
The draw begins slowly, lust leaking out of him like blood from a shallow wound. But it flows more freely as I carve him open.
“Oh, Iris.”
Grey moans, and my lip curls as a bitter fragrance perfumes the air, like dirt and rust.
He hisses through his teeth when it starts to burn, but he’s too caught up in his own meager excitement to pull away.
His pleasure doesn’t amount to much. Not nearly enough to justify the trouble he’s put me through. But a girl has to eat somehow, so I don’t stop until he is half-limp, propping himself up on a nearby desk.
He collapses to the floor as the connection is severed, and I watch with mild irritation as he groans into the linoleum.
“Enghh…”
I shake my head. You’d think a wolf his size would have more stamina.
“You good, Grey?”
He grunts something unintelligible, but I can see the sloppy grin on his face as I toe him with my heel.
It’s always the meatheads. They’re all talk.
I step over him, snatching my bag off the desk as I head for the door, but my balance falters when he grips my foot.
“What the?—”
I start to curse as I shake him off, but his eyes are shut, and he’s still grinning from ear to ear.
“Don’t go,” he mutters, half asleep.
I shake him loose.
I’m not interested in watching him stitch himself back together, and the potions lab is empty at this hour. There won’t be another class until morning. He should be fine to lie here for a while.
I check my reflection in the assortment of half-empty beakers on my way out.
There’s a bit more color in my face now that I’ve fed, but I can already feel the hollow sensation growing in my stomach.
I’ll be lucky if this lasts me until tomorrow.
