Page 21 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

Then, Emilia stops at her bedroom door, her hand grips the handle, and she glances back at me before slipping inside.

Maybe all I have to do is wait for her.

I push up off the couch and change into my black lounge pants and grab the spare pillow and blanket I’ve been using from the hall closet. As I walk past Emilia’s door, I hear the shower turn on and my cock twitches at the thought of her stripping out of her clothes.

I can almost smell her coconut shampoo.

Willing my legs to move, I turn off the hall light and walk back into the front room, fixing my place.

It would be better if she had a second room, but sleeping on the couch isn’t too bad. It’s wide enough that I fit fairly comfortably. Sure, it’s not my king sized bed, but I get to fall asleep surrounded by her scent. If I close my eyes, I can imagine she’s right beside me.

I can still hear the shower as I settle back onto the couch, sinking into the cushions and letting my legs fall open.

The kiss must have driven me mad, because I am hard just thinking about it. The feel of her soft lips and the warm blushof her cheeks as she looked up at me with those brown eyes, searching and finding just how much I want her, something I have been trying to hide.

I listen to make sure the shower is still going, then slide my hand under my waistband, palming my cock and wrapping my fingers around my shaft, giving it a long languid stroke from base to tip.

I grip the elastic of my pants and shove them down over my knees to free my cock, letting my head fall back, continuing the slow torture as the fantasy takes shape.

Emilia is straddling my lap with her hair back in a ponytail, something I can grab ahold of as I kiss her neck and sink my teeth into the meat of her collarbone, deep enough to leave a mark. She’s wearing that loose top from earlier, with the black cotton panties I catch a glimpse of occasionally when she bends over. The soft fabric nearly soaked through as she grinds against me, taking whatever she needs.

“Fuck,” I moan, running my hand along my shaft and over the tip, gathering the bit of pre-cum with my palm.

I can barely hear anything over the sound of my breath as I fuck my fist, thinking about all the delicious sounds I can draw from her lips. The knot at the base of my cock already swelling as I stalk my release.

“Silas,” her voice is a soft sigh that could be mistaken for a whisper. It sounds so real. A little too real.

My eyes snap open and I find Emilia standing across the hall, her back flat to her bedroom door.

She looks like she stepped out of my fantasy, her hair cascading over her shoulder, damp from the shower. She’s even wearing a baggy shirt that barely grazes her thighs so I can see her shapely legs and the tiny dimples on her knees.

“Emilia.” I choke out, stilling my hand and moving to cover myself.

From here I can see the sharp rise and fall of her chest, the material of her shirt clinging to the hard peaks of her nipples and flowing over her ample breasts. I’m practically salivating at the thought of having them in my mouth.

“No,” she murmurs, her eyes focused on my cock, no, not just my cock, she’s staring at my knot. “You don’t have to stop.”

Her hand trails up her hips, lifting her shirt so I can see her stomach as it slips under the lace hem of her panties.

I must be fucking dreaming. I have died and, somehow, gone to heaven, that’s the only explanation for the sight in front of me.

I give my cock another slow stroke, watching as she presses her thighs together, the outline of her hand moving under the thin fabric of her underwear.

“You could come over here and let me take care of that for you.” I say, drunk on the view as I do my best to draw out every movement, savoring the tension building towards the base of my spine, “I bet my fingers would feelsomuch better.”

She shakes her head, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

My balls tighten at the whimper in her voice. I want to take her into my arms and tease her until she’s crying my name like it’s a prayer, but I keep doing what she wants, using the warmth seeping from my tip to fuck my hand nice and slow like I’d fuck her, nudging at her entrance with my knot until her legs are shaking.

“Good boy,” she breathes out, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

Damn, she catches on quick. It takes everything in my power not to come. I reach down and squeeze the base of my knot until the sensation ebbs, noticing her fingers moving quicker at the sight. Oh, that’s what you want.

I groan, holding the base of my knot as the other hand works my cock, and her response is immediate, the door rattling as she closes her eyes and rests her head against the wood.

“No,” I growl out, the sound loud enough that it shocks both of us into awareness, “Look at me, little witch. Look at what you do to me.”

She tilts her head down, her eyes shadowed in the darkness.

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