Page 47 of Cuffed By the Wolf

We reach the back of the building. A hundred fractured reflections of us stretch off in every direction under the dim overhead lights — his shoulders doubling, tripling, bending into impossible curves against the glass. Gavin pushes my back against the mirror.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to eat your pussy again. This time while I’m sober.” He drops on bended knee in all his heavy police gear, the leather of his utility belt creaking as he settles his weight.

“Do you think I don’t remember how you taste?”

“Gavin, I’ve been working all day. Even though I used cleaning wipes to keep myself fresh and dry, I probably taste like artificial freshness.”

He cups my ass through my powder-blue sundress, fingers pressing into the soft flesh and pulling me forward. “If you stop taking the scent suppressants that you aren’t supposed to take, I could smell you.”

If I do that, he’d be feral over me for sure.

“I don’t plan to stop taking them.”

He chuckles. “You will stop sooner than later.” There’s a fiery warning in his eyes as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and drags them down my thighs, past my knees, over my calves, and carefully over my silver sandals. Gavin steadies my ankle as he helps me step out of them. He brings the cotton fabric to his nose, presses it flat against his upper lip, and inhales slowly, his chest expanding.

“I love your natural scent, but I bet if I smelled your real scent, I’d be a happier man.”

He has no idea.

“Mr. Grumpy, a happy man? How does that work?”

“I’m a little less grumpy when I’m with you,” he says, pushing my dress up with both hands and bunching the flowy material against my torso, holding it there with one forearm so his other hand is free.

“Are you scared of my cock and knot?”

“A little. It’s huge,” I cry out as he leans in and drives his tongue directly into my entrance, a slow, deliberate curl that drags against my inner walls.

“Gavin,” I whisper.

He lifts my leg and settles it over his shoulder, turning his head slightly to press an open-mouthed kiss to my inner thigh before returning to my center. “I need to taste all of you.” He spreads me open with two fingers and licks a long, flat stroke from my entrance to my clit, the full breadth of his tongue dragging over every fold.

“Sheriff, your tongue is wicked good.”

He chuckles against my pussy, the vibration buzzing straight through my clit and up my spine, and I nearly buckle. I grip his hair in both fists to stay upright, fingers twisting into the dark strands.

“We shouldn’t do this here. Someone could see us.”

My heart races a mile a minute.

“You won’t spend the night yet,” he says, pulling back just far enough to circle the flat of his tongue slowly around my clit, tracing a tight, deliberate orbit that never quite touches the center.

“Oh, shit.” I slap a hand over my mouth.

He seals his lips around my clit and sucks hard, his cheeks hollowing with the pull, and my hips jerk forward against his face. The orgasm tears through me from the inside out, my thighs clamping around his head, my back arching off the mirror. “I’m coming.” My eyes roll back and my head knocks against the glass.

He groans low in his throat and licks upward through the rush of slick that floods his mouth, his tongue working in long, hungry strokes to collect every drop. “Eating your pussy is the highlight of my fucking day.”

“I love the way your tongue feels on my pussy.”

“Is that so, non-mate?” He pulls back and looks up at me, lips wet, beard glistening, emerald eyes dark and half-lidded.

“Gavin, you’re going to turn me into a puddle if you keep sucking my clit like that.”

“Good.” He dips back in and seals his mouth over me again, sucking with slow, rhythmic pulls. “Give me more of your slick.” The words vibrate against my folds.

His emerald eyes stay locked on mine, hungry with need, watching my face come apart above him. “No one else will take care of my non-mate in a heat camp.”