Page 64 of She Wolf

She doesn’t know it but it’s her—my she-wolf. When you look up the meaning you find adjectives like savage, or violent but when you turn to nature, she-wolves are fiercely protective of their young and have strong family ties. Plus, man, I’m a wolf and so is Casey and now Knox, that makes her a wolf by association.

“I’ve only ever been able to look. Stolen glances are all I’ve had,” she says but I don’t think it’s directed at me, it’s more to herself.

After a while of indulging in her touch I step back, my chest tightening at the sight of the temptress, half-naked, kneeling on my bed. Her golden honey hair falls in waves around her shoulders and as I watch, my heart and my steel-hard erection, grow another size.

“Years, Peaches. Years I’ve wanted to do this and I’m in no fucking hurry. Lie back.”

I take her hands in mine and encourage her to lie her head on the soft, down pillows. Once I’ve unhooked her jeans, I pull on the zipper revealing a pair of matching pink, lace panties, then peel the thick denim down her legs, her toenails painted in an opaque navy to match her hands. Eventually, her clothes meet the same pile as mine on the floor.

I place a soft kiss on the top of her foot and then more along her leg and thigh. Then I drop it and do the same to the other. She smells like rose shower gel and the body lotion I know she uses.

When I helped her move, I unpacked the bathroom and couldn’t help but uncap the tops off everything. I was practically high on Coralie and had to take myself outside to be more constructive.

Her skin heats with my kisses and once I get to where her thigh joins her hip, I flip her body so she’s lying on her front, her delectable ass on display for me. It’s one of my favorite things about her.

“Have you ever imagined us?” I ask, my voice low. “Imagined what I’d do when I finally got my hands on you?”

She nods into the pillow again and a smile lifts my lips. Spreading her legs wide, she sucks in a breath and tries to close them, embarrassed I can see what I’ve done to her; the scrap of pink lace soaked through, the lace I can’t help but run my fingers over.

“You’re soaked for me, Coralie. Is this what I do to you?” I rub over the damp lace again and then again.

“Yes,” she groans into the pillow.

I grab a hold of one of her peachy, bouncy ass cheeks and firmly kneed it with my hands. She moans at my roughness, the sound pulling me back to reality with a force that nearly gives me whiplash and I pull my hand away like I’ve been burned.

What the fuck was I thinking? I don’t know anything about what being with him was like, she keeps it all so close to her fucking chest. What if Nick hurt her?

I gently turn her back over, her lips bruised and swollen from my incessant mouth and with her hair mussed up and her skin bare for my touch, I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.

She must see the look on my face, the question in my eyes and bites her lip nodding. I plump up the pillows and we both rearrange ourselves so we’re sitting up facing each other.

“It was never like this with him,” she whispers. “He was never gentle with his kisses or caressed my body softly or with reverence. I thought it was how it was meant to be: transactional, although he was pretty light in the giving department, I don’t think I ever…” she hides her face like she’s embarrassed.

Oh, fuck. That dipshit never made her come. Not in the whole time they were together. What a fucking dick.

But that’s not what’s important, what’s important is the answer to my next question.

“Did he ever force himself on you, Coralie?” Having to actively keep my fists from clenching is a real challenge, I wouldn’t want to frighten her ever, especially while she’s so vulnerable. The blood whooshes in my ears as I wait on her reply.

She looks out of the window, into the night, the curtains not drawn due to our haste and then comes back to meet my gaze, which I’m sure is boring into her.

“I want to lie to you and say no so that we can just carry on, but I don’t think that’s going to help either of us.” She takes a deep breath and starts drawing patterns with her short nails on the small space I’ve left between us.

“I want you to remember that I want to continue where we left off a moment ago. I want you to know that I have had a lot of therapy and had a ton of time to work through it all. Yes, this is my first time since…but” she gulps. “He did force himself on me towards the end of the marriage.”

I don’t know how I temper my rage. My insides literally boil, my blood turning to molten lava as I try to stay calm, after all this wasn’t my experience. I don’t know how I’m still sitting here and not tearing the room apart. How could he fucking take anything she didn’t want to give? What kind of a man can’t take no for an answer?

Her blue eyes search my face because I’m still mute. Still unable to digest that Nick hurt her. I’ve laid eyes on him, been in the same room with him.

“I…” My voice booms, and I have to clamp my mouth shut.

Deep breaths Gunner.

“Hey, look at me,” she grabs my cheeks in both her hands, trying to smooth out the anger visible on my face.

“I’m fine now Gunner. I swear if you hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have told you.”

She brings her lips up to meet mine and then pulls back again. I’m still trying to comprehend him hurting her. Someone I am so madly and deeply in love with that I would rather die than see harm come to her.

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