Page 69 of Wolf

“I have no idea what you're saying,” I mutter sourly.

His mouth curls at the corner and my heart skips a beat. It should be illegal to be so tempting. Gah.

“You’re fucking mine. Period,” he rasps.

“You’re delusional,” I hiss. “I’ll not be one of your…your harem.”

When I poke him in the chest again, just getting warmed up, he laughs. Seriously? Stomping my foot, I simultaneously smack his arm as he grabs me up and says, “Baby girl, I suspect with you, I don’t need a harem.”

With that, he slams his mouth against mine. I know I’m supposed to be angry, but as soon as I feel his warm lips, everything but need flies out the window.

His kiss isn’t tender or sweet, no it's harsh and stern, his tongue lashing against mine, exploring my mouth ravenously before sucking my tongue.

Each aggressive thrust sends tingles straight to my core and I moan against his mouth. When he picks me up, I don’t know what to do until he grabs my butt, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

My pulse jumps when his hands grab the globes of my bare butt. He moans against my mouth, squeezing and kneading the flesh while I clumsily thrust against the ridge of his jeans.

Is this wrong? Oh god, the friction is so delicious that I groan and grab his hair, slanting my mouth feverishly against his.

When we come up for air, both of us panting heavily, his dark, almost wild eyes meet mine and I move against him.

His nostrils flare and his lips, rosy from our shared kisses, curve into a sexy smile. My heart pulses wildly as he pulls my hair back, sliding his other hand between my legs.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So wet.”

The warm caress makes me pause but I’m a slave to the need coursing through me, too far gone to truly hear what he’s saying because those sinful fingers glide between my folds, pressing against the sensitive skin.

When he stops, I suck in a breath. I don’t want him to stop, and I buck against him.Please don’t stop.

I feel his breath against my skin, heating me through as, thank goodness, he taps against the aching bundle of nerves.

“Oh,” I moan when his fingers pump inside. The sweet stretch burns but it quickly turns to pleasure when he curls them up and presses his palm against my core.

The ache builds and builds while he thrusts those wicked fingers inside me. I’m clutching onto his shoulders for dear life while I arch into him.

“That’s right,” he rasps. “Ride me. Ride my fingers with that sweet pussy.”

Maybe it’s the deep, raspy tone, or the way he tilts his hand, I don’t know but it’s so intense, I arch into his fingers, crying out his name. He slams his mouth to mine, sucking in my scream, his fingers still pumping into me and bringing me back to the brink before I’m ready.

All at once, he pulls away and I moan, “What?”

His wicked smirk sends another pulse of need through me as he drops me on the bed and lays down beside me.

His wicked fingers move back between my thighs, and I arch in the air. I’ve never felt anything so intense, and I try to back away, but I’ve nowhere to go.

He shoves two fingers inside of me and groans, pumping them back in while his glittery eyes watch the show down below. I thrust into his hand, powerless to stop the next orgasm from growing. When he sucks my nipple between his lips, I bow off the bed.

It’s so fast that all I can do is hang on for the ride, shuddering helplessly as I fall over the edge again.

“So fucking responsive,” he groans before licking his fingers.

“Wolf,” I pant, and he drops a kiss to my breast before pulling my nipple between his teeth and biting down gently.

I gasp, a slow build climbing inside me again. I want more but I’m not sure at this point that my body can handle where he’s trying to take it. Still, he pays me no mind as he lifts me easily in his arms and sets me in the center of the bed before unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his legs.

He pulls on his long, throbbing, and disturbingly wide penis. My core pulses but on the wings of that I feel a twinge of fear. That’s not going to fit. How does it fight inside anyone? Holy shit.

While he pulls and tugs, it grows and pulses under his hand. My core squeezes, empty and aching, and I whimper, “Please.”

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