Page 13 of I Hate Myself for Loving You
The weight of him, the sheer delicious pleasure of his skin against hers, was heady. Her nose flared with the scent of his sweat mingled with hers. Her cunt swallowed the length of him, inch by inch as he slid into her, convulsing around him until she thought she might cry out from the delirious pleasure.
Curling under him, she tightened her legs around his waist, mumbling incoherently when the fierce onslaught of orgasm touched the first nerve and set her on a path there was no turning back from. Avery drove against him, pumping her hips upward, undulating with wild abandon, reaching to find the release that would end this burning climb to relief.
She felt the muscles in his back cord and bunch with tension, flexing against her own. Lassiter’s neck arched back, the strong column of it tense.
As a myriad of sensations flooded her, Lassiter clenched his teeth, threw his head back and howled, long, eerily, sharp and resonant. It sang in her ears, leaving behind the vibration so familiar when she ran with her pack mates.
Yet, her focus was lost when she came too, digging her fingers into his back and gritting her teeth when the undeniable pleasure he created exploded. Her juices ran, mingling with the hot spasms of cum his cock ejected, jerking within her.
She couldn’t hold onto him anymore, her arms ached and were weak from her release. Letting her arms fall away, she hung from his grip, trying to process what had just happened.
Lassiter panted for breath against her chest, keeping a tight hold on her.
When reality set in, Avery realized her ass was numb from the hard ground beneath her and the cold was seeping into her bones.
She also realized they’d just boffed in the middle of a clearing, in the dead of night, buck, fricken’ naked for all to see.
Howling like two dogs in heat.
Jesus Christ in a mini skirt.
Wait, her brow furrowed. Howling… Lassiter had howled. That high pitched keening only werewolves were capable of.
She lifted her head, grabbing the top of his by the hair and yanking it upward, looking directly into his eyes. “Wanna explain?”
His eyebrow crooked upward. “Explain what?”
She narrowed her eyes. “How can I put this delicately? When you were gettin’your rocks off, you howled. Stop right there,” she said to his open mouth. “I know you want to protest, but save it. I know a howl when I hear one.”
“It was good. I said so in the way of a moan. If you want to call it a howl, okay. I howled.”
Avery let go of his head with a quick hand and pushed at his chest, scrambling out from under him and pulling down her shirt. She dragged her jeans on and shook her head. “I work with animals all the time, Lassiter. You howled, like a—like a?—”
Sitting up he asked, “Like a what, Avery?”
Well, fuck. Now here was a dilemma if there ever was one. She was outright accusing him of being exactly what she was. A werewolf. But if she did that, if she spoke the words and he wasn’t a shifter, how the hell would she relate his howling to something that wasn’t supposed to even exist?
Or something like that.
For fuck’s sake. If he was a shifter, how did she miss that all those years ago? How did she miss his scent?
And how did she find out what he was without exposing the Adams, too? How would she know the first thing about shifting if she wasn’t a shifter herself? How insane would she seem if she came out, guns blazing, accusing him of being a werewolf?
Humans didn’t like that sort of thing. They mostly didn’t believe in that sort of thing.
But she damned well knew a howl during mating when she heard one and if she didn’t learn to stuff it, she’d out herself and the Adams pack.
Oh, the web of deceit she’d been ready to weave. Her big mouth, impulsive and always at the ready, would be the death of her.
“Forget it,” she dismissed her accusation, hoping he’d let it go. “I have to go. It’s cold and I need to get up early to finish this damned bunny hut.” She turned to leave, but Lassiter grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Avery.”
“It doesn’t? You keep saying that, Lassiter, but I disagree. What else could it be like? Just because we rutted like pigs doesn’t change the fact that we’re still on opposite sides of the fence.”
“But the fence dynamics change when we get in the same corral.”
“This isn’t going to happen again. No more sex, Lassiter. Not until we talk like adults.”
