Page 48 of Fangs for the Memories
“There’s always time for mating, kedves. Always. And a mating after a battle is even sweeter.”
She shakes her head.
I gaze at her for a few seconds. In the dim light of the bedroom, she has an ethereal quality which is quite, quite stunning.
“Look.” I peel back the makeshift bandages, used to stem the flow of blood more than anything. They reveal my quickly knitting injuries.
Grace gasps and her face goes a shade whiter.
I catch her easily.
“I’m sorry,” I croon. “It’s not always the easiest of things to see.”
“It shouldn’t be possible,” she murmurs.
“Werewolf genes. We tear each other apart on a regular basis. Healing quick is our way of saying fuck you to our rivals.”
Grace reaches out, her finger tracing over my newly formed skin. It sends a shiver through me.
“I’d prefer you to touch me elsewhere, kedves,” I murmur.
Her eyes flicker to my cock, erect and ready.
“But…”
I capture her chin with my thumb and forefinger.
“I want you, Grace. I want to mate you here, and now, in the bed soaked with my blood because I shed it for you. Fate has thrown us together, and I need to sheath myself in your heat, fill your womb, pleasure you until you cannot even remember your name and you are hoarse with screaming mine.”
The scent of her arousal is enough to finish my healing for good, and more than enough to make my cock throb.
But my little morsel needs more coaxing, so much more, and I have the utmost desire to please her.
“Ferenc…” she whispers as I slide my hand over her dress, lifting the fabric with my claws.
“Did you do as I ordered, kicsci mate?” My chest heaves as I find her pussy entirely bare for me.
Her body twitches as I cup her, sliding a finger between her hot folds and then burying it in her heat.
She is so damned wet, I feel like my cock is going to explode just by touching her. A pant leaves my lips.
“You want this, kedves, don’t you? You want to be ravaged by an alpha werewolf.”
Grace’s eyes are half closed, her head tipped back, her body only upright because I have hold of her chin.
“Yes…” she moans. “Yes, I do.”
I push a little deeper, searching for the place all females have and which always tips them over the edge, my thumb rubbing at her clit in slow firm circles. Grace is tight. Sheathing myself in her is going to be a challenge, and certainly if she is to take my knot she will need to be stretched.
She gushes on my hand, and my cock weeps so damn hard I almost think I’ve come as well.
“Pretty little female,” I rumble, “are you going to take my cock?”
“Yes,” Grace moans.
“You know you’re going to need to come again in order to be filled, to be loose enough to take my cock?”
Grace
