Page 4 of Claimed by the Wolf

And so did I. Sweat ran down my back, and hot, slick juices came gushing out of my pussy. Even without being touched, my clit buzzed. Grant spread my legs and ran an exploratory finger around my folds, making me whimper. He raised his head and let out a howl. It was eerie and hot to know how crazy my brown body was making this rich white man.

He knelt before me, taking in my pussy with his eyes and then extending his strong, wet tongue. My eyes widened, and my pussy tightened in anticipation, sending out even more nectar. His hands found my full, round breasts and began kneading them, toying with the nipples. I gasped, and my eyes fluttered shut as he began to lick me with deft, knowing strokes. One lick here, teasing my clit, another there, until I thought I would burst. My pussy throbbed, dying to be filled.

Grant grinned. I could feel his lips turn up against my damp entrance, and I moaned at the sensation. He flicked his tongue inside me in response, first going fast, then slow, and each flick made me cry out. I bucked against him, desperate for his cock.

Instead, he put one, then two fingers inside me. He curved them to hit my G-spot, making me spurt more juices, and then began fucking me with them.

He pulled out his fingers and cupped them under my bootylicious butt instead, gripping each powerful buttock. “Nice,” he said, and grinned.

“I . . . know . . .,” I managed to breathe out, my eyes screwed shut. “I . . . work out.”

“I can tell.”

Then, without a word of warning, he drove his cock into me. I shrieked at the pain of being so thoroughly stuffed, but it felt so good! He filled me up, oh, God, he filled me up, and then he started thrusting, in, out, in, out, his big balls slapping against me with each thrust.

My pussy gripped him tighter, eager to get every last bit of feeling I could. I could feel the orgasm building, like lights going on in every cell of my body. It was like someone had gone into a dark room and flipped on all the light switches.

And it grew and grew, until—“Aughh, aughh!” I cried. “I’m coming!”

Grant thrust even deeper and harder. Oh, my God, that cock, that huge cock, ramming into me . . .

I came so hard, it felt like every muscle in my body was melting. I thought I might have even passed out for a second, but if that was what fainting was like, I’d do it every day. Bliss poured through me as at that second, Grant spurted his seed into me.

Panting, he pulled out, and I realized what I had been too blind with lust to see just minutes before.

Horror broke through the curtain of joy. I would have slapped him if I could have gotten my hands free. “Wait,” I whispered, horrified, “where’s the condom? Didn’t you put one on?”

“Of course I did, but I guess it slipped,” he replied. His ocean-colored eyes were definitely stormy right then. “But aren’t you on the Pill?”

I stared at him. “Why would you assume that?”

He shrugged. “Everyone is. Or they just get their tubes tied.”

In his world, that was probably true. But not in mine. I couldn’t handle the hormones of the Pill. They messed me up, made me sick.

Besides, a secret part of me muttered, my body didn’t want anything between his naked dick and me. I thought of the steel rod sheathed in velvet, and my pussy started to grow wet and throb again. And what were the chances that this one shot had gotten me pregnant? “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said at last.

“Good,” growled Grant, “because I’m not done with you yet.” He ducked his head between my legs and swiped up my juices with his tongue. My head lolled back against the pillows.

I had no idea how he could get hard again so quickly, but this time, I watched as he tore open another gold foil wrapper and rolled the condom over that hard, delicious cock. I nearly swooned with desire before he plunged back into me and fucked me, hands roving all over my body and finally into my mouth, where I sucked on them until I passed out from the wave of orgasms.

The last thing I remembered, he was chuckling. “I told you once you said yes, that was it.” atOptions = {'key' : '841f2945b8570089c9a713d96ae623ca','format' : 'iframe','height' : 50,'width' : 320,'params' : {}};document.write(''); 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

* * *

A horn honked, sending me jumping about five feet into the air. I had been sitting on a bench outside the nursing building, flipping through my flash cards for the exams. I knew all this stuff by now, but every time I thought of what would happen after I graduated, I started to shake.

My professors all thought highly of me, and one had even taken me aside to suggest I think about becoming a nurse practitioner. That was pretty great praise, but I wanted more. I didn’t tell anyone, of course, but I wanted med school. I wanted the M.D. after my name. Dr. Zenobia Jones, M.D. Imagine! Wouldn’t my mom be proud, if she were still around to see?

But real life came crashing back down the way it always did. Honest to God, I had been lucky to get the scholarship that had paid for nursing school to begin with. There was no way medical school could be anything more than a pie-in-the-sky kind of dream. Two hundred grand? Who had that kind of cash?

I had just paid my rent, and I only had one hundred twelve dollars left to my name, which meant living on ramen for the next few days. I hated ramen, and after my nutrition course, I knew exactly how bad it was for you. But what choice did I have?

Not like billionaire Grant Beal would ever have to worry about anything like that. What couldn’t he have in all the world?

I shoved the thought of that passionate night with him three weeks ago out of my mind. It already felt so unreal, like a fantasy, and I had reality to deal with. Graduating into joblessness wasn’t the only thing I was worried about, but I didn’t have time to think about it right now.

Maybe, I thought, gulping, maybe it’ll come tonight.

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