Page 62 of The Weakest Wolf

I scream as pleasure-pain ripples through me. My body struggles to accept all of him—because he’s not small, not at all. He doesn’t move again, just holds still until I open eyes that I have no memory of closing.

“How about now? You want me to—” This time I’m the one silencing him.

I grab the back of his still-damp hair and haul him closer. My tongue strokes the seam of his mouth until he gives me what I want. His mouth opens and with a growl, his tongue touches mine before he returns my kiss with the heat I was craving.

We lose ourselves in the fury of a never-ending kiss, and as we do, he eases his body from mine. His next thrusts aren’t as hard or deep as the ones before. He drives into me with a smooth glide that makes me think he’s holding back.

I break the kiss to glare up at him. “Harder.”

Although his face is harsh with strain, a smile plays on his lips. “No, I think I like it slow and easy.”

So I rake my nails down his back. Hard. “What about now?”

His eyes flash and I’m suddenly staring at his wolf. He snarls low in his throat. But it isn’t fury riding him—it’s excitement. “Do that again,” he growls.

“No.”

He bends over me, his hands tight in my hair. “Do it again, and I’ll give you as hard as you want. For hours.”

Need burns so hot that my muscles clench tight around his cock, drawing a harsh swear from him.

I drag my nails up and down his back. I’m breaking skin, but from the growls that erupt from Galen’s throat, it’s clear he likes it. A lot.

His lips return to mine, and his tongue plunges into my mouth. I taste the hunger in him, which feeds a needy part of me. So I lift my hips to meet each heavy thrust into my body.

I moan as a slow-building ache spreads up my belly and over my breasts.

He changes the angle, and his cock hits a part of me that makes me whimper.

The sound sparks a darker heat in his eyes, and he thrusts even harder.

“Galen,” I moan.

He tears my hands from his back, pins them to the counter over my head before he hammers into me again.

My mouth opens and I go still. “Please,” I whisper.

Growling, he pulls back. Midway through his next hard stroke, I explode around him.

My scream echoes all around us as I buck and thrash against him. His hands tighten around my wrists as he growls and pushes past my clenching muscles. Heat fills me as he strains deeper inside me.

It takes a long time before my muscles stop rippling around him, even longer before I can steady my breathing.

When Galen lifts his head, I wait for him to pull out, to make some comment about having made me scream before ordering me to get out. I brace myself for the rejection and tell myself it doesn’t matter. That I’ll survive the sting of it the way I have everything else.

What I don’t expect is for him to lift me and stride from the kitchen with me in his arms.

“Uh, Galen. Where are we going?” I ask as I wrap my arms around him. One quick peek over his shoulder and I wince at all the damage I did to his back. My nails aren’t long, but I left some serious marks on him.

He raises his eyebrow. “You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Yes, yes, I did.

But I don’t say that. I don’t say anything because now I know where he’s taking me. Down the hallway and to his bedroom.

“Because,” he continues, “we’ve barely gotten started.”

In his bedroom, he kicks the door closed and heads straight for the bed.

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