Page 55 of Cuffed By the Wolf

“We should play cards,” I announce.

When I peek back, he’s smiling. I didn’t think he was capable of smiling this wide.

“Tyson, will you grab the cards?” Gavin asks.

“Sure thing.”

Gavin gets up to prepare cocktails.

“I’ll warm up the brisket I bought at the festival.” Gavin sits me on the sofa, and he rises to his feet.

I’ve never felt so safe in all my life. Having a fated mate is great.

I’m finally letting myself be happy with Gavin. So far, my scent suppressants haven’t failed me.

Acouple of days later, after getting off work, I decide to stake out Jenny’s Airbnb. I just wonder what she does from day to day. She enters the house wearing a hot-pink bikini, a yellow bag slung over her shoulder. Looks like she just came from the lake. She said she loves lying under the sun, catching rays. I’m just trying to see if she has anything to do with the wire. I don’t think she does — though Gavin’s voice is still in the back of my head, reminding me her ID doesn’t match a single word she’s told me. Why would she give me her address if she was into shady shit? Maybe she didn’t think I’d pay her a visit. Well, I’m not really visiting. Just spying.

Last night was fun. I was careful not to drink too much. I couldn’t reveal to Gavin that we were fated mates. Still can’t believe they really exist. If I tell Gavin too soon, I’ll go into heat and possibly not crack my case. Gavin said I could sleep by myself in one of his six bedrooms. When I came to early in the morning, my eyes dragged over the muscled man clutching me against his chest. I looked down at my body. My hand slid over the black t-shirt he must’ve dressed me in. He only made me swoon more by not pushing me to have sex.

My body slid over his lower half under the navy sheet.

Yup, question answered. He sleeps naked.

I dragged my lips along the ridges of his abdomen until my cheek brushed the hair at his base. I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling the thick pulse of him against my palm, the weight of him heavy and warm. My tongue traced a slow circle around the head before I parted my lips and sank down, cheeks hollowing as I sucked.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

I stroked upward with my fist as I pulled back, feeling every ridge and vein drag against my lips, then sank down again. A thin thread of saliva slipped from the corner of my mouth and ran down the shaft over my knuckles.

His hips rolled up from the mattress. “Sasha.” My name came out wrecked, scraped raw from somewhere deep in his chest, and his eyes snapped open and locked onto me.

I held his gaze and moaned around him, the vibration pulling a grunt from his throat. His hand shot to my braids, fingers twisting and gripping at the roots, not forcing, just holding, like he needed something to anchor himself to.

“You’re doing a good job, little omega.”

The praise hit me low in my stomach and spread outward like heat. My thighs pressed together. I knew exactly why it affected me the way it did. This was the same man who had looked at me like an inconvenience the first time we met, like I was something to be relocated. Now his fingers tightened in my hair.

I cupped his balls with my free hand, rolling them gently, watching his jaw go slack. His head dropped back for a moment before he caught himself and looked back down at me, chest heaving, the muscle in his neck pulled taut.

“Take as much as you can.” His grip on my braids tightened, and he began to move, short, controlled thrusts that pushed him deeper until the head of him pressed against the back of my throat. My eyes watered. I breathed through my nose and held, letting him feel the constriction of it.

“Little omega.” His voice fractured. “I’m going to come.”

I slid my hand from his balls and pressed my palm flat against his stomach, fingers spread, feeling the muscles seize beneath my touch. Permission given. His thrusts lost their rhythm, hips snapping and stuttering, and then he buried himself deep and held there. The groan that tore out of him was almost pained. I felt him pulse against the back of my throat and I swallowed, and swallowed again, my throat working around him.

His grip on my hair loosened finger by finger. I pulled back slowly, dragging my lips up the length of him until he slipped free with a soft sound.

“Open.” His voice was still rough, barely recovered. “Show me.”

I opened my mouth and extended my tongue. He took his cock in his hand and tapped the head against my tongue, once, twice, three times, watching my face with dark, half-lidded eyes.

“Good girl.”

The words moved through me like a current, and my fingers curled into the sheets. Every nerve in my body leaned toward him. I wanted to climb up his body and feel the knot of him stretch me open. The want was a physical pressure, a hollow ache low in my belly.

But I held still.

Jenny walking to her car pulls me from my memory.