Page 73 of The Wolf in My Tavern

What I get is the swipe of a hot tongue lapping me intimately from behind. I groan. The sensations are utterly sublime.

Callum grunts behind his gag, and I hear his chains rattle like he is trying to break free… then more vigorously still. “Ummm huummma fffuuuu uuuu ufff!”

My breathing turns to a pant. I’m trying to say something, hoping it might calm Callum, yet breathing is all I can do.

Something's not quite right. The texture of Gray’s tongue is too rough, too long, and too big to be entirely human.

He isn’t human. He is a wolf, a shifter eating me out from behind like I am his new favorite treat.

His deep, filthy growls, the rough, lapping tongue, and the experience of being bound and helpless send my pleasure surging higher still. He is no gentleman; he will have me however he wants and deliver satisfaction or withhold it, at will.

Mumbled words tumble from my lips. His big tongue sweeps everywhere except my throbbing clit. “Please! Oh, please!”

I beg, chant prayers, and strain against the soft bindings that hold me open and exposed. “Please, I need to come.”

The savagery with which he took my mouth is forgotten. His wicked tongue now destroys my will, one searing lick at a time. He enjoys me at his leisure, growling over his prize, encouraging me to spill more juices so that he might better feast. His fingers play with my nipples, pinching and twisting them, sometimes one and then the other, sometimes both together. Tugging them roughly, and then feather-light touches that drive me to the point of madness.

I cannot escape his fingers or his lapping tongue.

All I can do is endure until he deems this game over.

I lose my mind under his sensual assault, lose all sense of time—lose everything—and when he finally closes human lips over my swollen clit and sucks, I come with a scream.

The sweet, rhythmic contractions have barely begun when he rises and stuffs me full of cock.

“Fuck, you’re tight, wench,” he growls, his iron rod sliding in and out, slow and deliberate. He holds, buried deep. His fingers bite into the flesh of my ass, spreading my cheeks open. “Relax, Ada, lest I hurt you working my knot inside.”

His words registered from a distance—I am still coming.

Palms bracing my hips, he drags me on and off his length, rutting me, making our flesh slap together, and driving me higher.

He growls over me, coaxing me to take more, to be good for him.

I sense a shifting in the air, an awareness prickling under my skin that all was not quite right again. The cock filling me feels thicker, and my muscles strain to accept it.

The body slapping against me feels soft… almost like a pelt.

“Oh!”

I have seen this side of him before.

I should be frightened.

But I am not. No, I am wildly aroused.

The polished wooden floor became a blur under my eyes as I am shuttled back and forth with increasing speed. His grunts and growls turned savage, the thrusting, monstrous rod equally so. It stings where his hands grip me. Claws?

I swing wildly on and off his thickening cock, helpless, tormented by the pleasure, my pussy constantly fluttering on the brink of another climax.

He howls, and the thrusts slow, going deeper, more deliberate, pressing his thick swelling past the lips of my pussy while the head pounds against my womb.

A scream is torn from me as the thickening ridge near the base of his cock keeps sliding in and out.

Chains rattle, and another male growls.

There is too much of him inside me, too much cock, too much raw pleasure. I cannot endure anymore.

It doesn’t matter what I can or cannot take. Gray will have me anyway. He has captured me, taken me away on a ship destined for who knows where. Here, he has bound me and hung me where he might use me for his pleasure.

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