Page 96 of Claiming the Wolf Daddy

I giggled breathily, feeling myself flush in embarrassment and excitement. “Shut up. You’re one to talk.”

“True,” he agreed, his cock now fully erect and pressing against my backside. I could feel the swollen head pressing into the small of my back, his length pushing firmly against my ass cheeks.

I rolled onto my side to face him. His eyes were hooded and almost drowsy, his clean hair messy in a way I desperately loved. He cupped my breasts and gave them a generous knead.

“Marley,” he growled. “You have no idea how much I love these. How much I think about your body. How good you feel in my hands.”

He lowered his mouth to mine. He was demanding and quick, not like the usual slow build of tension. His lips were insistent and aggressive, forcing mine apart to sweep his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine. I moaned into his mouth, returning his hunger and meeting him in a wild dance.

My body pressed against his with an urgency that matched his own. Our hands roamed freely over each other’s bodies, mapping and exploring like we were experiencing each other for the first time again. In some ways, it felt like we were making love for the first time after being at odds for so long.

Cole trailed his lips to my neck, nibbling on my sensitive skin. I shifted closer to him, seeking more friction, wanting him to take everything from me. His hands slid over my curves, grazing my sides, tracing the lines of my legs.

His touch was delicate yet possessive, a careful caress that spoke volumes about his yearning for me. His fingers found their way beneath my panties, stroking that most delicate and sensitive of skin at the apex of my thighs. They brushed against my entrance, checking for that silken wetness before sliding two fingers in deep.

I gasped, my back arching as he moved with a merciless pace. He adjusted us, moving me onto my back to get a better angle. He set to work, thrusting his fingers in and out, each time brushing the tips of them against my most sensitive spot and coaxing me to higher pleasure.

The sensation was incredible. Cole knew exactly what I needed; his touch was masterful, skillful, and attentive. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the exquisite intensity of our connection.

Our passion built upon itself, growing hotter and more intense.

I felt his fingers flex inside me, stretching me to accommodate his size and drawing a soft whimper from my throat. The air was thick with sexual tension, his every touch setting my blood ablaze. He was the flame, and I was the fuel. Each stroke of his fingers sent pleasure coursing through my veins, leaving me weak and pliant.

Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, causing me to let out a low groan of disappointment. He smirked at my reaction, knowing just how much he was torturing me. I could feel his enjoyment and amusement through our bond.

He grinned mischievously. “Something wrong?”

“You’re cruel,” I said.

“Only when I know it will be fun for you, sweetheart.”

My heart raced with excitement and trepidation. I hadn’t expected him to ask for something so soon. I knew we had only started to make up after our fight, but I could tell this was important to him. A way for him to show me how much he cared for me. If I agreed, it would mean something special between us.

“Okay,” I whispered hesitantly.

His smile grew wider. “All right then,” he said, his voice dark and sexy. “I’ve teased you. I think it’s only fair that you tease me back, don’t you?”

I couldn’t tell if he meant fair for me or fair for him. Maybe it was both.

A shiver ran down my spine. “I’m not sure,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I could tease you, but I feel like you always have more fun when I worship you.”

“Worship me?” he asked. “When have I ever asked you to worship me, baby? I’m not so vain.”

“What else would you call me dropping down to my knees?” I asked.

His brows shot up, and he inhaled tightly through his nose. “So much for not teasing me,” he said roughly. “Where should I set up your altar?”

I bit my lower lip and rolled to the edge of the bed before sliding off it to kneel on the plush carpet just a few feet away. He sat back on the bed, looking at me with dark intention.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet but firm with command. “Back to me.”

I swallowed tightly, my heart slamming painfully against my ribcage. I couldn’t quite describe what it did to me when he slipped into this persona, when he became equal parts affectionate and dominant. I loved being able to surrender to him, knowing he would never hurt me in this vulnerable position.

I turned my back toward him as he’d commanded.

“Don’t move,” he said.

I obeyed, holding my breath as I waited for whatever came next. I heard the rustle of fabric, followed by the gentle glide of his hands as he positioned me perfectly.

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