Page 70 of Stealthy as a Wolf

With only the barest tip, he dragged his finger through my folds, spreading my juices, and I couldn’t stop the groan that tore from me. I waited for him to thrust deep and get down to business, but the fucker seemed content to play.

It was the best form of torture, one I would volunteer for any day.

After five minutes, my breasts felt heavy and my patience was gone. The playfulness went from cute to almost cruel. I wanted more. Ineededmore. When I tried to force his hand, angling my hips toward him, he leaned toward me, and I sighed in relief…only to yelp when he gave my hip bone a sharp nip.

“What the hell?!” I couldn’t hide my outrage as I scowled down at the orgasm stealing asshole.

Grady peered up at me, completely unrepentant. “You moved.”

That was all he said.

I opened my mouth to protest, but paused to think about his warning.

I didn’t want him to stop.

I wanted my damn orgasm.

I blew out a heavy breath, then nodded…and he continued the delicious torment. In seconds, I was left a trembling mess, struggling not to move and chase the orgasm that hovered just out of reach.

After a full minute, I growled in frustration. Before I could open my mouth to protest the abuse, his finger sank deep into me, stretching me around the thick digit, and my words ended up as a groan instead.

It was so good, I swore my eyes nearly rolled back up in my head.

Before I had time to adjust and enjoy the sensations, he withdrew. Curious what he would do next, I kept my mouth firmly shut.

I wanted more.

And I was quickly rewarded when he surged back, only he added a second finger. I was wet enough that it was an easy glide, but it was still a struggle to take all of him so deep, the intrusion feeling just shy of painful.

It felt glorious.

My orgasm hung temptingly out of reach, and I was helpless as my body twitched and begged for more. When he didn’t move for a full minute, I cracked my eyes open to see what was wrong, peering down at him as my lust drove me slightly mad.

“Hands in my hair,” he demanded, and I didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions.

The soft strands brushed against my palms. I tried to be gentle as I tangled my fingers in his hair, but it was beyond me.

I wanted him too much.

And I received another thrust from his fingers as a reward for obeying.

I couldn’t look away from him, waiting with bated breath for his next command.

He seemed to love the attention, proving it by leaning forward and very thoroughly licking my folds. I jolted when pleasure streaked through every cell of my body. I was so distracted by his talented tongue that I barely heard his next command.

“Use your hands to guide me.” His voice was gruff, the huff of breath so near my core that I shivered. “Ride my face.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I yanked him closer, arching my hips at the same time. His tongue immediately hit a spot that made me see stars. The movement sent his fingers sliding against my core, scraping across something inside me that had me trembling.

Only when the sensations faded did I whimper and realize what he had intended—he was giving me control. If I wanted pleasure, I would have to take it.

I tightened my grip on his hair, not even hesitating to drag him closer.

And he feasted.

The harsher I was with him, the rougher he became. I adjusted speeds and angles, finding a rhythm that had me straining toward him as he thrust in and out of me oh so perfectly. I trembled, balanced on the edge of a cliff, my orgasm hovering frustratingly out of reach.

Then he did something with his fingers, curling them in a way that had me screaming his name.

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