Page 23 of Her Convict Wolf

I feel exposed under his gaze. My nipples have turned to aching little pebbles and I can feel that my panties are damp between my legs, but I hold still and let him look. I want to savor this moment. Remember every last thing about it.

My own gaze zeros in on his erection, which is jutting out, straining against his zipper. It’s so freaking huge. I’ve already felt it, pressing against me, like it’s been trying to find a way into me. My pussy is throbbing at the thought of it inside me, taking my virginity. But is it even going to fit inside me?

I watch his hand go to his belt. Looks like I’m about to find out.

He unfastens it, slowly. I can’t breathe. Every last bit of my attention is focused on the deliberate movements of his hands. I’ve never even seen a cock before. I’m glad that the first one I’ll see will be his.

Then he stops. And instead, he tears his shirt over his head.

And my mouth falls open. What a body. Huge, ripped, tan, and covered in scars. Knife wounds, or claw marks, it’s hard to say, but they’re scattered over his torso.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he’s on me. He catches me up in his arms and covers me with burning kisses. I run my hands all over him. His skin feels like velvet, and I can’t get enough of it.

“Emory, my angel,” he mutters, his mouth hot on my skin, as he kisses his way down from my mouth to the valley between my breasts. His hands, rough but skillful, are behind my back, and he strips my bra right off. My hands shoot up to cover my tits. No man has ever seen them before.

He shakes his head “Let me see them.”

Obediently, I drop my hands again. Hold them down at my sides and let him look.

A sound of pure need breaks from his throat, and he falls on them. Cupping them in his strong hands, he sucks on my nipples, until I feel like he’s going to eat me alive.

But he doesn’t stop there. He tips me onto my back, and his rough tongue licks me all the way down my ribcage and belly, before he dives in between my thighs.

I squeak as he spreads my legs wide, making sounds of appreciation all the while. I’m so wet for him, embarrassingly wet.

“You smell so good, my angel,” he mutters as his tongue dances around the edges of my panties.

I tremble. I wonder what his tongue would feel like on my bare pussy. At last, he grabs the waistband of my panties and yanks them off. I hear the fabric tear, but I don’t care.

And then he’s spreading me. “I want to see you, Emory,” he grunts, as he pushes my thighs apart, opening me to his gaze.

I squirm and shiver under his scrutiny.

“Such a beautiful little pussy,” he growls. He draws back. “Anyone ever touched this little pussy before?”

“No. Of course not,” I say. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’ve been waiting for him all these years.

“Anyone ever looked at it?”

“Nope.”

“So, it’s all mine.”

My cheeks heat, and so does my pussy. I’m about ready to beg for him to touch me.

He goes still. “Is it mine, Emory?”

“Yes,” I reply, right away, and I almost orgasm on the spot. “It’s yours.”

With a growl of need, he dips his head and licks me for the first time.

I let out a wild cry as his tongue slides along my slit. He feels so good, plunging his tongue deep inside me, then lapping at my clit.

He’s so good, so skilled, and soon my thighs start to convulse.

“You ever come before?” he demands.

“Maybe?” I mutter.

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