Page 74 of Fated to the Wolf Billionaire

And then she whimpered, pushing back with her hips, and I broke. I plunged forward, and she took me to the hilt in one swift motion with a wordless cry of pleasure.

My hands shook on her hips, and for a moment, I was worried I was going to lose my head like an untried teenager. She was… too perfect. Too everything. I dragged in a lungful of her scent, the heady amber notes stronger now that we were connected, and somehow, the reminder of her pleasure steadied me.

I worked her body in slow, purposeful thrusts, giving her time to climb her next peak. Somewhere along the way, my wolf’s urging receded, canines finally going back to normal human teeth as I regained my own control. When I could tell she was getting closer, I picked up the pace, leaning over her so that my chest brushed her back, so I could sweep her hair out of the way, giving myself access to her neck.

“You going to come for me again, Stormy girl?”

“Y-yes, I’m so close, Reed… I just need something, I’m sorry, I need…”

Most women needed clitoral stimulation, and she’d obviously enjoyed that before. But I wondered…

“I’ve got you, Stormy. Hang on.”

She whimpered again, light flutters around my cock telling me she was right there. She just needed me to push her over the edge. I straightened, pulling her up with me, changing the angle where we were joined.

“Ohhh.” She arched in my hold, head falling against my shoulder as I worked her G-spot, stroked her heavy breasts, and then, when I could tell she was about to fall, I bit her. The pulse point where her neck and shoulder joined had been calling to me, taunting me, where I knew I’d eventually leave my mating mark. Not hard enough to break the skin, just hard enough to?—

She screamed, her pussy locking down around me in a way I couldn’t resist, that pulled me down into the sea of euphoria right along with her.

Lost to my perfect Storm.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Fiona

My heart was still pounding a rapid staccato when Reed carefully lowered us both to the bed, cradling me from behind in the utterly perfect big spoon, despite the fact that we were both slicked with sweat. My mind and heart were spinning, but his arms around me were the perfect anchor in that moment.

He was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Actually, calling the men I’d been with in the pastloversmight not really be accurate, now that I’d experienced what I had with Reed. He’d read my every need, pulled sensations from my body I didn’t know I was even capable of feeling. That in and of itself was a lot to process. It was… like really experiencing sex for the first time. All the times before felt faded, less than in comparison to the burning fire between us.

To the connection between us.

And then he fuckingbit me. I reached up with trembling fingers to touch the tender spot at the base of my neck. It was sore but not painful. He rumbled, that gravelly sound deep in his chest that I found so soothing, and gently tugged my fingers away from the spot. And then he kissed away the ache, holding my hand with his.

After a few more minutes, when both of us seemed to have come down from the postorgasmic high, he kissed my temple and murmured, “Do you want to take a shower with me?”

I nodded, still too lost in my own head for words.

He slipped away, and I instantly regretted the loss of his warm, steady presence behind me, but a second later, I heard the shower running, and then he was back, scooping me out of bed like a damsel in a fairy tale.

“Reed, I can walk.” It was a weak protest, and the look he shot me said he knew it as well as I did. I traced the perfect arch of his eyebrow, marveling in the fact that just a few short weeks ago, I didn’t even know this man, and now…

Now he felt like the safest place in the world, my landing place, myhome. The realization froze my breath in my lungs.

How could it be, so quickly? It was illogical, and my very-human upbringing wanted to rail against it. Too much, too fast, too uncertain.

But it was all so intenselyrealbetween us.

He carried me right into the shower, waiting for me to test the water with my fingertips and give a nod of approval before setting me on my feet under the hot stream. It was a sweet gesture, a level of care I’d never experienced before.

And that was before he grabbed my favorite bottle of bodywash and began to lather it up between his palms.

He washed me tenderly, tracing every line of my body like it was precious to him, working tired muscles with strong fingers, soothing away aches with gentle caresses.

My eyes were full of tears by the time he carefully backed me under the stream of water, rinsing away the soap, but not the love he’d put into the actions.

Because that’s what this was. It was time to call a spade a spade—I loved this man.

This stubborn, difficult, incredible man. With every fiber of my heart and soul, I loved him.

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