Page 32 of Her Convict Wolf

That feels so good. Right away, I start to get wet, my pussy beginning to ache for his cock. He keeps going, casually, like he’s in no rush at all. Heat floods my core and I squirm under his touch.

Then he spreads my pussy open, and I’m lost.

“Fuck,” I mutter. I’m open, so ready for him.

“You want me to fuck you again?” His breath is hot on my ear.

“Uh huh.”

“You sure you’re wet enough for my cock?”

I bite my lip. “I don’t know,” I lie.

He climbs on top of me and shoves my legs wide apart with his big, muscular thighs. I sense his cock, looming right above my pussy, but just out of reach. He’s not touching me anymore, he’s just pinning me there, spread and ready for him. Kissing my mouth, my neck, sucking on my nipples.

I make a sound of frustration. Damn. He’s enjoying this. I can feel my wetness seeping out of me and dripping down onto the mattress. My pussy is aching like crazy for him.

“Maxim, I’m wet enough. Fuck me already,” I exclaim.

He crooks a thick eyebrow. “Hmmm… what’s the magic word?”

“Please!” I burst out. “Please fuck me.”

He gives a raw sound of need, and pushes his cock against my entrance.

“So big,” I pant as his big, broad head enters me.

“Your little pussy needs to get used to my girth,” he grunts. “I’ve got to stretch it out, day after day, until it’s a perfect fit for my cock. And only my cock.” He forces himself in, slowly but relentlessly, until he’s balls-deep inside me. I feel like he’s impaled me.

“You have any idea how good your pussy feels?” He stares down at me intensely.

“Tight… I guess,” I gasp out.

A wicked smile tugs at his lips. “So, so tight,” he confirms. “Gripping my cock like it was made for me.”

I shudder at his words. “I think it was,” I say.

“That’s right. Made for me,” he repeats, thrusting himself into me. “Whose is it?”

“It’s yours,” I say, right away, and another rush of arousal surges in me.

“That’s right, it’s mine.” He goes harder and faster. Arching over me, his big cock hammers into me, screwing me into the mattress.

I come all over his dick, one, two, three times, panting, gasping, begging for more. And he doesn’t quit.

Only when I’m lying helpless, all wet and messy and sated, does he grip me tight and unleash his hot seed, deep inside me.

* * *

Maxim isas good as his word—he does stretch my pussy out, day after day. I learn that being a wolf’s mate also means having a lot of outdoor sex, on the porch, in the forest. It’s important for his beast to mate in its most natural environment. And I’m glad to connect with it. It’s always there when we mate, right below the surface, glowing in his eyes, in the fierceness of his touch, and it’s part of his wild sexiness.

I love how much he wants me. He rarely wears clothes—he says shifters usually walk around naked when there are no prudish humans to see them—and I’m treated to the sight of him gloriously naked all the time, nothing concealing that big, cock from me. Most of the time it’s hard, or semi-hard, always ready to shove its way inside me.

I’m a little shyer than him, and I usually wear at least a slip dress to preserve my modesty, but it only takes a touch or a kiss from Maxim, and I’m aching for my mate to claim me again.

And when we’re not fucking, we get to know each other again. Not as bodyguard and ward, but as a wolf and his mate. My sexy older man, who’s teaching me so much about life.

This little cabin and the vegetable garden outside become our whole world, and I couldn’t be happier.

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