Page 48 of Alpha Varsity

I find her nipple and pinch it, slowly tightening my hold until she squirms.

My balls draw up. I’m feverish and hot. “Now, Lotta,” I growl and shove in deep. My balls tighten and pump sending streams of hot cum into her.

I release my hold on Lotta’s nipple and give the side of her breast a light slap.

She comes, her slender hips bucking against mine, her slick juices mixing with my essence.

I slide my hand over her breast in more of a caress. I squeeze lightly, then stroke down her side to her waist.

She looks magnificent. Her raven hair spreads in a halo around her head. Her eyes are closed, berry lips parted in an “O” as she squeezes and milks my cock for more.

“That’s right,” I encourage, bumping my loins against her ass in short beats. “Take it all. Every last drop.”

She moans and hooks her ankles behind my back,pulling me in tight against her to grind out the last of her orgasm.

Lotta

There is nothing in the world like sex with Asher.

I had no idea it could get this good. And I have a feeling we’re just getting started.

It seems I’m helpless against refusing him. I vowed never to have sex with Asher at school again, yet, here I am, splayed out on one of my classroom’s tables with my panties torn to shreds on the floor.

As my brain returns, so do my misgivings about what we’re doing. About my inability to stop myself. About my feelings for Asher.

Because the fact is, I do have feelings.

I cared deeply for him when he was thirteen. Maybe my wolf knew him on some level, even without the presence of his wolf. What I feel now is that caring tangled with a hurricane of dangerous desire. And the more concerned I feel for him, the more pressure I feel to flee. To leave Wolf Ridge before it’s too late. Before I’m locked into something with him that I can never be free of.

I look away as I unlock my ankles from behind his back and use my feet on his thighs to push him away. Out of my peripheral vision, I see his upper lip curl into a snarl, but he accepts my abrupt change of heart. He walks to the sink and washes up as I slide off the table. I clean up with a few tissues from the tissue box, which I put in my purse to dispose of in the toilet later. Leaving any evidence of our tryst in the classroom would be disastrous.

Asher picks up my panties and pockets them. Hesaunters over to my studio area and stands with his arms folded, taking in the painting I’m working on.

“When did you start this one?”

“In August.”

He looks over, brows jumping in surprise.

“What? It takes a long time to complete a painting this size.”

“You hadn’t seen my wolf in August.”

I blink, not understanding. Then I stare at the wolf on the canvas and gasp, my hand clapping over my mouth.

ItisAsher.

Why did I not put that together? In addition to painting my wolf, I’ve been painting variations of this giant black wolf since my sophomore year of college.

Since Asher would have transitioned to his wolf form.

I sway on my feet.

Asher circles an arm around my waist and pulls me up against his firm body. “They’re all of us,” he murmurs with awe in his voice. I scan all the paintings, large and small, stacked against the walls or on easels to see what he sees.

Fate, how did I miss it? Every painting features either a giant black male wolf or a slender white she-wolf, both with green eyes. I thought of them as yin and yang. To me, they represented the male and female wolf aspects. Sometimes I painted them together. Mostly apart. Sometimes I painted my face superimposed with my wolf’s or with the wolf’s face over my chest area.

Inever, ever dreamed I was painting a specific male.

---