Page 34 of Cuffed By the Wolf

“Little omega.” His hands grip the meat of my ass, pulling me down firmly against his face. “Ride it.”

I dig my fingers into his brown hair with one hand and grip the headboard with my free hand.

His tongue darts out and presses flat against my folds before the tip finds my clit and circles it slowly, deliberately, like he has all night and intends to use every second of it.

“Gavin — oh, shit. Oh shit.”

The slow, wet drag of his tongue winds something impossibly tight low in my belly. He seals his lips around my clit and sucks, and my hips roll forward on their own, grinding down against his mouth. A year. It had been a full year since anyone had touched me like this. But even that memory dissolves, because nothing I’ve ever felt compares to this — to him. There’s something about being taken apart by your fated mate. Every stroke of his tongue sends pleasure crackling up my spine like a live wire.

“Gavin, I’m coming already —”

“Such a good little omega.” The words vibrate against my clit and I shatter, my thighs clamping around his head as the orgasm tears through me in rolling waves. My hips stutter and grind, chasing every last pulse of it against his tongue.

He groans against my flesh, the sound deep and hungry, his grip on my ass tightening as he pulls me harder onto his mouth and licks up my slick through every shuddering aftershock.

“So fucking delicious.” His tongue traces slow, lazy strokes through my folds, gathering everything I’ve given him. “Give me more of your slick.”

I glance over my shoulder and I’m instantly mesmerized. His free hand has pushed his shorts down just enough to free his cock, and he strokes himself in long, unhurried pulls — his fist sliding from root to tip over his long, thick, heavily veined length. My eyes catch the swell of his knot at the base, and I force my gaze away. I can’t think about that right now. It could trigger my pheromones. I can’t have that.

My brows shoot up anyway. Was I supposed to take that inside me if we were ever together?

He reads my mind. “You can take my cock,” he says against my inner thigh, his breath hot on my slick-soaked skin. “And you will. Just not tonight.” He turns his head and drives his tongue directly into my entrance, pressing deep, curling slightly as he works it in and out in slow, thorough strokes.

The sound that leaves me is embarrassing. My hips rock back against his face, fucking myself on his tongue as more slick gushes over his bearded cheeks and chin, coating his jaw.

“All mine,” he mutters against my core, the words reverberating into me.

I know he doesn’t mean that. It’s fine. It’s the liquor talking.

His lips find my clit again, and he nips at it, just a graze of teeth, before sucking hard, his tongue flicking fast and relentless underneath.

“I’m coming, Sasha,” he roars against my flesh, his hips snapping up into his own fist, his whole body going rigid beneath me.

The sound of it, the raw desperation in his voice, detonates another orgasm through me. I cry out sharply, my thighs shaking, my whole body clenching and releasing in waves as I grind against his mouth and ride it out. I feel the hot splash of his release hit my lower back, thick and warm, another stripe painting up toward my shoulder as his hips jerk through his finish.

“Damn,” he breathes, chest heaving. “I’ve never come that hard before.”

I ease off his glistening, satisfied, devastatingly sexy face. My legs are barely functional. Gavin pulls me down into his arms, tucking me against his broad chest. His cum is sticky and warm against my back and splattered all over my braids. His chest is slick with it too, where I press against him, but his arms wrap around me like he doesn’t care even slightly.

“Tomorrow we’ll pick up your things from the camper so you can move in here,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice already going slow and thick with sleep. “I will keep you safe.” He trails off.

What the fuck? The man’s clearly delirious.

Early the next morning, I gently peel his hand away from my boob and slip out of my mate’s embrace. My gaze travels over his sculpted, muscular frame. Somewhere along the line, he’d taken off his shorts. I wonder if he sleeps naked.

Sasha, mind out of the gutter. Get your things and get out.

I gather my dress and stilettos from the floor and slip into the bathroom.

After relieving myself, I pull my dress on. No time to look in the mirror; I wash my hands and cautiously glance out the door. So far, the coast is clear. I exhale. I glance back at him sleeping so peacefully. I snatch up my purse, lock the door behind me, and slip out of his house.

I have to finish what brought me to Lupton—and then leave.

Once back at the camper, I notice I have only four scent suppressants left. My new prescription should arrive in a few days. I must keep my distance from Gavin. On the way back to Charleston, I’ll stop at a heat camp to get through my heat. No nesting this time. A tear trails down my cheek. I need to nest.

Saturday night, I meet Jenny at Torpedo. It’s a nightclub on the other side of town. It’s a laid-back atmosphere with a live band. The crowd is diverse. Several people sit at tables smoking hookahs. The VIP section is roped off with bottles of champagne resting on ice in buckets. If I were home in Charleston, I’d be in the VIP section. Well, that was before my career was ruined. A sea of people move to the beat on the dance floor. Just the kind of scene I like. I couldn’t imagine Gavin going to a lounge or club.

“Do you like?” Jenny asks.