She offered him a cheeky grin. “Feel free to slake your thirst whenever you’d like.”
He chuckled. “You might regret making that offer. Especially when I tie you to my bed and gorge on you for hours on end.”
“That’s okay. As long as you let me do the same to you.” She smiled when the heat in his eyes intensified. “Hmm, I do believe you like the idea of me sucking your cock all night long.” She tiptoed her nails down his sculpted chest and followed the happy trail leading toward the waistband of his jeans. With one finger, she traced the rigid length of his erection through the denim before cupping him fully. He thickened within her grasp. She angled her head and scraped her teeth on the underside of his bristly jaw. He groaned, a shiver running through him.
Excitement and heady desire heating her in decadent waves, she unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock for her fingers to explore. The rigid veining of his shaft fascinated her, as did the way his testicles tightened when she massaged them lightly. Returning her focus to the satiny, plum-shaped cap, she encountered a weeping teardrop of his precome. Lifting her finger to her mouth, she sucked his essence from her skin with a soft moan.
“Jesus.” A ragged exhale escaped Dante before he pulled her into his arms for a deep, drugging kiss that melted her bones. Their tongues tangled, intermingling both of their tastes. He broke the kiss and stared at her. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
Whimpering in agreement, she yanked his jeans past his hips. He scooted out from between her legs so he could kick his boots and pants completely off. “I hope to fucking God you have some condoms stashed somewhere, because I sure as shit don’t.”
Being shifters, they didn’t have to worry about human STDs, so condoms were strictly to prevent pregnancy amongst their kinds. But an unpleasant allergy to latex made condoms out of the question for her. “I can do even better than that. I have an IUD.”
The expression that crossed Dante’s face reminded her of a kid who’d woken up Christmas morning to a pony in the backyard. He settled over her again and slid hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. The delicious, heavy weight of his shaft nudged at the slick entrance of her pussy with its own brand of kiss. She wiggled beneath him, forcing his thick cockhead inside her a fraction. A tremor ran through Dante, and he rolled his hips, thrusting deeper. His penetration was a slow, luscious glide that allowed her to feel every hard centimeter of him. The diving of his cock didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt within her. He hesitated, his cockhead butting her cervix and his smoldering gaze locked with hers, before he retreated completely and started his lazy plunge all over again. And again.
She tilted her hips, trying to speed him up, but he only lifted farther out of reach by balancing on his outstretched arms. Not about to be thwarted, she hooked her good leg behind his ass and ground against him. A bead of sweat slid down his sternum and lines of strain furrowed his forehead. “Babe, what part of I get to be on top do you not understand?”
“But—” She broke off with an indignant gasp when Dante pulled out of her and rolled her onto her stomach. His hand settled firmly on her tailbone when she attempted to flip back over. The light dusting of hair on his thighs grazed her skin as he settled between her legs again. She snorted. “Doggie style? I should have known.”
He chuckled. “Don’t even pretend you’re not gonna love this.” With that boast hanging in the air, he lifted her hips and thrust inside her. Somehow, the new position allowed him even deeper access, which he took full advantage of as he bottomed out inside her pussy. He pumped his cock in an unhurried, steady rhythm, the whole time keeping full command of their lovemaking and her pleasure.
She had no option but to take it. And sweet mother of whiskers, did she freaking love it. Before Dante, she’d never experienced sex with a shifter who was the sheer epitome of dominant alpha. Amongst the lynchats, it was usually the females who held that title. Not that the males were pussy-whipped—no pun intended—but there was no denying that nine times out of ten, the women were the natural-born leaders and the most likely to take charge in the bedroom. She’d always assumed she preferred it that way, but she’d be a damn liar if she said she didn’t want to thoroughly submit to Dante’s mastery at the moment. Fortunately there would be plenty of time tomorrow to scold herself for usurping her feminist power. Because right now, Dante and his wonder cock were too potent to resist.
Her toes curling, she gave in to the rapturous purr tickling the back of her throat.
Dante’s rhythm faltered briefly before he thrust deeper. “Do you have any idea how much I fuckin’ loved watching you get yourself off yesterday? Later, I fantasized about doing exactly this, my cock pounding into you from behind while you played with your clit.”
“Y-you did?” Almost unconscious of what she was doing, she slipped a hand between her legs and coasted a finger over the slick bundle of nerves.
A growl issued from Dante. “Yeah, like that, baby. Stroke that pretty little clit for me.” His fingers clenching around her hips, he pulled her into his fierce thrusts. Between his pistoning cock and her rubbing motions, it took little time for the next climax to barrel down on her—this one even more powerful than the last. It tore through her, shattering her into a million brilliant fragments. Her incoherent cries rang in her own ears as her body trembled and convulsed. Her channel pulsed and spasmed around Dante, clamping down on his cock in a sucking embrace. With one last smooth thrust, he surged deep inside her and came with a long, shuddering groan.
Their limbs entangled, they collapsed into the bedding. It took several moments to chase down her breath. Once she did, she rolled onto her other side to face Dante and grinned. “Okay, I might not mind being on the bottom once in a while. But just you wait until I’m on top.”
A laughing groan rumbled through his chest. “Why do I get the feeling it’s gonna damn well kill me?”
Chapter Seven
Lilly gave an indulgent stretch as she swung her legs over the mattress. Eighteen hours had passed since Dante left her bed, and she was still sore—in all the right places. If there was one thing she’d learned from their sexy afternoon together, it was that werewolves possessed insane stamina. Honestly, it was no wonder so many damn Morgans populated this neck of the woods. Werewolves were bigger boinking machines than rabbits.
Not that she was complaining…mostly.
She gingerly tested the status of her injured ankle by resting most of her weight on that foot. Not even the tiniest twinge of pain. Pumping her fist in victory, she hurried to the bathroom and cranked on the shower to a hot enough setting to chase away the morning chill from her achy muscles. After stripping from her pajamas, she jumped beneath the spray and soaped up her washcloth. Despite her best efforts to ignore the pleasurable tingles shooting across her skin, the silky glide of the cloth brought her memories racing back to the enticing way Dante’s hands thoroughly explored every inch of her yesterday.
A hot flush of need trembled through her. The realization that Dante had the power to affect her this way was both thrilling and disturbing. The handful of lovers she’d had in the past certainly hadn’t left her this weak-kneed with desire and starving for a repeat performance between the sheets.
It must be the hormones. Soon as her heat cycle was finished, she’d be back to her normal self, thank God. It was disconcerting being a slave to her body where Dante was concerned. Just because she’d agreed to this sham of a marriage didn’t mean she could afford to grant him control of certain things that needed to stay out of this deal—like her heart. Thankfully their past history prevented the possibility of her falling for him. Sure, the sex was mind-blowing and something she could easily become addicted to, but nothing would suck more than being in a one-sided love affair. Her own mother had suffered from that unfortunate affliction. Although Rob Prescott had loved his wife before they’d ultimately divorced each other, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he’d shared his affections with other females. Seeing the silent anguish her mother had suffered throughout the years had only solidified Lilly’s decision to steer clear of marriage.