Page 38 of Rugged

Lyssa displayed a nervous sexuality. She was one part vixen, one part embarrassed. She seemed almost ashamed when she admitted she’d never used any toys before. It only made my wolf preen knowing we’d be her first. We’d discover together what made her hot.

Just knowing her first choices were the cuffs, the plug, and the vibrator were telling. She wanted to be controlled. She wanted to give it up. To give me the choices like whether or not a butt plug would be worked into that nice virgin back hole of hers. She wanted it, or she wouldn’t have picked it. But she also wanted me to make her take it.

“Oh baby, that is so hot.” I intended to praise that embarrassment right out of her. “Look how hard you’ve got me.” I left the towel around my waist but looked down at the tent my dick made.

She dragged her lower lip between her teeth as she eyed it.

I stalked toward the bed but stopped at the end. She wanted to be dominated. She’d asked me to spank her.To put her in handcuffs. That meant I needed to give her instructions.

I crooked my fingers at her. “Come off the bed, and let’s see how well you followed my orders.”

I watched the flare of nervous excitement in her expression–part alarm, part thrill. She was a pleaser, I would guess, which meant she’d want to get this right. She wouldn’t want to hear she’d done anything wrong, even if she wanted that spanking.

“Oh, um…” With wide eyes, she fumbled with the vibrator to turn it off then scrambled off the bed and darted over to me.

I took the toy from her hand, dragging my fingers over hers to prolong the contact and make sure she felt my reassurance. I couldn’t stop myself from licking her juices from the vibrator before dropping it onto the bed next to the other toys.

Fuck, she tasted good.

“Put your hands on your head.”

I heard her breath hitch. Her gaze was riveted to mine.

I didn’t say anything more, just waited for her to comply. Her scent had a tinge of anxiety in it that drove my wolf into a frenzy, but I let it ride. That was part of the excitement of submission. The element of danger–even just a pretend one–amplified the pleasure.

I could see her pulse racing at her throat, but herlarge brown nipples were stiff and hard, and the perfume of her arousal filled my nostrils.

Tentatively, she lifted her hands to the top of her head. Her heavy breasts rose and spread with the movement, like an offering for my mouth, which watered for a taste.

“Good girl,” I praised. I still didn’t touch her although I could tell through her pleading gaze that she wanted me to. “Now spread your legs wide.”

She let out a tiny whimper of desire, eyes still glued to mine as she slid her bare feet wider.

“That’s it, baby. Very good. Now, let’s see how wet you are.” I reached between her legs and stroked two fingers over her slit. “Did you do a good job with that vibrator?”

She trembled when I touched her, like it was almost too much to bear. Her belly shuddered in and out.

“Ohh.” I made the syllable an exclamation of pleasure when I felt her feminine honey that practically dripped between my fingers.

We were alone in the bunkhouse. No one else lived here at the moment, so she could be as loud as she wanted. And if anyone heard, I didn’t care. They’d know my mate was being well satisfied.

“Yes, you were a good girl, weren’t you?” I kept gliding my fingers through her slick at the same time my other hand came to cup one of her breasts. I brushed my thumb over her taut nipple.

Unsteady, her hands came off her head to fall on my shoulders.

“Uh-uh.” I gave her breast a light slap. “Hands on your head, beautiful.”

She gasped, and her hands flew back to the top of her head.

“I want your body open and available for my exploration.”

Her juices practically gushed between her legs. She liked my brand of dirty talk. Liked being dominated. Good to know. I never thought of myself as bossy or controlling, but I found it natural to be in charge of her. Natural now to take care of my mate’s needs by holding the reins.

I slid one finger up to roll the pad of it over her clit, and she squirmed, shifting her hips right and left and whimpering. “Which do you like better, my finger or the vibrator?”

“Your finger,” she answered immediately.

My wolf gave a growl of satisfaction. I wouldn’t have been offended at all if she’d said the vibrator, but I loved that she preferred my touch.

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