Page 47 of Fenrir

He kissed down the side of her throat to the tops of her breasts. He pulled her shirt down and swirled his tongue around one nipple, making her core heat. She dug her nails into his back and arched into him.

“Fen. I need you to touch me.”

He chuckled and continued to suckle her. “I am touching you. Can’t you feel it?”

He bit her breast, and she bucked against him.

“Not there.”

He playfully nipped her skin again.

The agony of the throbbing sensation crescendoed. She took his hand and pushed it down between her bare legs. Fenrir growled as she pushed his hand up her short ruffle skirt and pressed his palm against her core through her panties.

He gripped her wrist lightly and raised her arm over her head. The look he gave her was one of such dominance and control that it made her whine in submission.

“I am in charge here, little Goddess.”

All she could manage was a nod as a wave of pure lust shot straight through her.

Slowly Fenrir lowered his hand back to her skin. He started at her breasts. Cupping it and pinching them and making her pant with need. She craned her neck to kiss him, but he pulled back and pinched her nipple harder.

Grace gasped.

“Who is in charge?” he asked.

Grace’s breath came out somewhere between a pant and a sigh. “You are.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and then retreated so he was looking at her again.

He circled her breast with his fingers, softly feeling each in turn. Then he moved his hand down her abdomen. Tracing her belly button with his large calloused hand. He dipped in and kissed her. Strong and slow. Letting his tongue pull her attention as he kissed her over and over.

Minutes passed, and Grace groaned with irritation. She needed him. Wanted him.

Fenrir slowly slid his hand over her skirt and pushed it up her thighs. He stroked one thigh and then the other before pressing his hand around her waist and squeezing her rear. His large hand massaged her flesh, and he broke the kiss to look at her again.

His eyes blazed with desire and need, and she wondered where his sudden strength and confidence had come from.

“Fen-”

He kissed her.

When he pulled away, she tried a second time. “Fen-”

Again he stopped her with a kiss. “Who is in charge here?”

Grace whined. “You. But-”

He kissed her again, and she growled. Fenrir chuckled and then gazed at her.

Fine. If that was how he was going to play it. Two could play this game. Grace gave up fighting and instead allowed her own hands to roam. She slid them down his abdomen to the front of his pants. Softly she slid her hand over his length, lightly rubbing him through his jeans. His body twitched and bucked against her palm, but his eyes gave nothing away.

He traced his hand down the inside of her thigh and then back up to the edge of her panties. He pushed them aside and slid one finger up and down her wet folds.

Grace bit her cheek and held herself back from calling his name. She continued to stroke him through his jeans as he lazily traced the lines of her most intimate parts. Touching and teasing her until her body teetered on the edge.

Her breath came in and out in shallow gasps as she fought against the sensations pulsing through her.

Fenrir hooked a finger around the waistband of her underwear and slid it down several inches. She raised her hips, making it easier for him to get them off. He stood and dropped them to the floor before undoing his belt buckle and dropping his pants. He wore nothing underneath, and the sight of his fantastic body made Grace growl with hunger.

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