Page 56 of Howl for the Gargoyle

"It was just an idea!" I shouted.

But Rafe was laughing, arms stretched above his head as I ran for him, keeping his stolen treasures out of my reach. The purple dildo wobbled side to side in the air above our heads, but I managed to snag at the leather harness, ripping it from his grip and tossing it on the bed behind me.

"You didn't mention it last night."

"You need to stop digging around in my bag," I huffed out, trying and failing to climb him.

His free arm wrapped around my waist, and I grunted as he lifted me. But I put my own arms around his shoulders, sagging in his hold and glaring down at his beaming face.

"I would, but I always find something fun in it," Rafe answered, and he grabbed my ass and hoisted me higher around his waist. "I knew you liked my ass, but I didn't realize how much."

My face was on fire, so I hid it against his cool shoulder as he carried me out of the bedroom. "Rafe."

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting this—"

"Rafe," I groaned, but the damn man was carrying me to the kitchen where I smelled cheese, and he and I both knew he was going to be forgiven for teasing me as soon as I'd had my first bite.

"But I've always been curious to try it."

I lifted my head at that. "You haven't before?"

Rafe shrugged and his wings rustled, and my hand couldn't help but reach out and brush over the boning, his eyelids sinking in pleasure at the touch. "No one's asked."

You could've asked, I thought, and then realized that wasn't really true. You could've asked me.

"We've got lots of time before you shift to try it out," Rafe said, waggling his eyebrows.

I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was close to noon, so we did have most of the day. I knew now how a day with Rafe went—we ate, we fucked, we got lazy in the bath, we fucked, we napped, we ate. Aside from when I was a werewolf, being together in this cottage reminded me of the dreamiest moments of a new lover, when you couldn't stop touching and kissing, and silence was profoundly intimate and conversations were trivial and meaningful at the same time. I didn't forget that I was Rafe's client, that this was his job, but I also knew our chemistry and connection was genuine.

"We could…we could save it…for tonight," I murmured, half-hoping he hadn’t heard me. Except I was still right by his ear and there was no chance of that.

Rafe set me on my feet, and I remembered I was naked at the exact moment he pulled his long sleeve shirt off over his head and then dropped it onto me.

"This is a craving, isn't it?" he asked, and I struggled my arms into the sleeves and popped my head through the collar to find his eyes glittering down at me. He reached over and pushed my hair back from my face before I had to do it myself. "Your werewolf-y urges have been thinking about this."

"I think so," I said. I knew so.

Rafe nodded. "You're definitely more dominant when you're shifted. It's hot."

I was blushing, but he just turned and pulled a plate out of the oven. And bless his juicy firm ass and carved cock, it was loaded with breakfast burritos, and the counter was dressed with bowls of salsa and guacamole and there were beans simmering on the stove.

"I'm going to have MSA send us some lube and plugs in that case. You gotta work for it," he added, winking at me over his shoulder and then shaking his ass.

It was easier said than done to get anything up an ass as tight as Rafe's, especially when his flesh was significantly firmer as a gargoyle. I nearly broke a finger when he clenched, and lube helped, but also made things so outrageously slippery it was like a game of evasion to get the plug in place. Finally, Rafe had to push the little stainless steel bulb in himself because I was too nervous.

But the sight of him with his legs spread and his brow crunched with effort and his mouth falling out in a garbled cry as it sank in was worth all the frustrated laughter and my bruised index finger. And the sounds he made as the plug wiggled and pushed inside of him as he walked around made my thighs press together.

And the way he gasped and squirmed on the floor, eyes wide as pressure forced the plug deeper while I rode his cock at the edge of moonrise, made the burn in my thighs sing up into my cunt and the sweat trickling down between my breasts a licking caress.

"Oh fuck, oh Hannah, fuck," he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as I leaned back against his bent legs and tried to push him endlessly deeper inside of me.

My transformation was already prickling under my skin, but I was so close and so was Rafe, and I wanted to see how many times I could make him come tonight, because he fucking deserved to feel as wrung out tomorrow morning as I always did.

"We're running out of time." I had my eye on the window and then the clock. We were minutes away from moonrise, but I needed this—I needed this last moment of relief and ecstasy before the torture of the shift.

"Don't stop, please."

Rafe had a beautiful whine. He teased me now about how I sounded close to singing, but his voice, all broken and begging, was musical too.

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