Page 18 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“Ada! Let a man enjoy the unwrapping,” he mutters with a huff, plucking my hands away and pinning my wrists together above my head in one hand. He puts his other palm against my pussy, cupping me intimately over my panties while I pant and burn with impatience. Only his face, that enrapt expression as he stares at his hand, keeps me still.

He releases my hands, and I don’t move this time as he leans right down, putting his nose against my panties and sniffing. “Gods, you smell fucking amazing.” He brushes his knuckles against me through the cotton. “Are you wet, Ada? Is your pussy creaming for me?”

I don’t know what he means, but I can feel how slick I am there, and all I can do is nod.

He pushes the material against me, poking it up inside me a small way before tugging it wetly away. I feel so alive, so lost in this sensual spell; I can’t find a scrap of shame as my body weeps with need.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Patience, lass,” he says. Grasping for the waist of my panties, he slowly draws them down, exposing me to his lustful gaze. He closes his eyes and groans, and when he opens them again, I see a raw need that matches mine. He tugs them off, all the way down my legs in a rush, leaving a wet trail behind. Then his fingers are there, opening me, spreading me wide, and his brows bunch with concentration as he carefully traces the length of my pussy with a single finger. I gasp as he catches the little bud near the top. He stops, pins me with a look, and brushes over it again.

“Oh!” I try not to squirm. It feels nice, and I want more, but he has told me to be patient, and I want to please him in this.

He moves down again, until he pauses at the entrance. Then, expression enrapt, he pushes his finger inside with agonizing slowness. “Does that feel good, Ada?” He pumps slowly, not going very deep.

“So good. Please, more.”

“You are very fucking tight.”

My eyes sink to the bulge tenting his pants as he braces over me. I remember how he felt under my fingers. How big he is. I ought to be frightened. Only all I can think about is how much better it might feel with his cock filling me instead of his finger.

He smirks like he can read my thoughts. “Naughty girl,” he says, and how I love the affection in his voice. “Someone is thinking about my cock. Rest assured, you’re not getting your hands on it until you have come for me at least once.”

“Come?”

He stills his finger inside and brushes the pad of his thumb over my clit. I jolt as pleasure zips through me.

“There we go,” he says, pushing a second finger inside as he swipes his thumb back and forth over the sensitive place that has me twitching and groaning and twisting up inside. “That is the magic spot, hmm? Lie still for me like a good girl, and let me play, and then I will consider giving you my cock.”

I can’t breathe properly. I can’t think straight. “Let me see you!”

“Just a little more.”

“Oh, goddess. Oh. What…?” I hold my breath.

“Shh, focus on breathing for me.”

It is surprisingly hard to breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe?

His face has a determined set to it, and I can’t look away. Every muscle in my quivering body grows tense before sudden pleasure radiates in my core. My mind and body pitch into freefall. Wild groans pour from my lips as my pussy falls into sweet, clenching waves. “Oh, oh, oh!”

His lips close over my nipple, and I arch up against him, my body still quaking. His fingers thrust deeper, a little roughly.

I cannot get enough. My hands are in his hair. I’m so sensitive, but he doesn’t stop. I dip my hand down his pants again to find his cock is even harder, and I squeeze.

He jerks up, groans, and sinks back on his heels. He doesn’t interfere as I thrust his pants down far enough to liberate his cock so I can wrap my fingers around it.

Goddess. He is huge, hot, and angry-looking in my small hands. Stickiness leaks from the head that my slick pussy surely does not need.

With a grunt of defeat, he wraps his fingers around mine, stilling me. “I’m going to come.”

“Good,” I say, disgruntled at being denied. “I want you to. You can put it in me next time. Goddess. Please, Callum: I want to watch.”

“Fuck!” He releases my hand and groans as I slowly pump.

Impatient, I shift to my knees, gently cupping the heavy sacks underneath as I stroke his thick length. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yes,” he gasps, like he is in a lot of pain. I glance up to see a strained expression on his face. When I look back down, it seems the most natural thing in the world is to lower my head and suck the slick head into my mouth.

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