by Ella Goode
He places a hand on my chest and slides it upward until he’s palming my neck, forcing my head back far enough for his silver eyes to meet mine. “Second thoughts?” he asks, eyebrow arched in challenge.
“Not at all.” I grip him tight enough that it must hurt him but his only response is to smile.
“I’m a wolf, baby. Your human hands can’t harm me.” He wraps his free hand around mine. He starts jacking himself, using my hand to do it more aggressively than I would’ve ever believed would feel good. The palm around my throat tightens. “Under this skin, I’m an animal.”
He’s daring me to be disgusted, daring me to be afraid, daring me to leave.
“Well, try to keep up then.” I hook my arm around his neck and jerk, pulling his face down to meet mine. Our mouths clash. His tongue sweeps in, flicking over mine. His kiss isn’t tender or sweet. It’s bold, aggressive, almost taunting as if he believes I’m going to run away frightened with my metaphorical tail between my legs.
While I did run from Cody, there’s no danger here, unless it’s the risk of losing my heart to a good man. And if that’s the plank I’m walking out on, then I embrace it with my whole being because I need to show him how serious I am about committing to this new life with this pack and this man.
I release him, and he stumbles back, unprepared for my next maneuver. I drop to my knees and circle the shaft with both hands. “Let’s see how you like this.”
I swallow as much of his giant cock as humanly possible. He’s right that he’s big, too big for me to take all the way in. I fist the base, using the force he showed me earlier. His legs jerk before he locks them in place.
“Shhhhit,” he hisses.
I hum a happy tune. His response is undeniable. He loves this. He loves having my mouth around his big cock. He loves the sloppy sounds I’m making. He loves my fingers curled around the root. His thighs tense and a big hand comes down to rest on my head.
I work him hard with both hand and mouth and tongue. I include his balls, drawn tight against his body. I rub the small spot between the base of his rod and his asshole, delighting at every strangled sound that emanates from his throat above me.
“Suck me,” he says hoarsely. “Suck me hard. Show me how badly you want it.”
His words make my cunt spasm. I reach between my legs and circle my clit at a furious pace. He tears himself away from me.
“That’s mine,” he accuses. “That’s my clit you’re fingering. That’s my cunt that’s wet. That’s mine.” He picks me up and throws me like a rag doll onto his mattress. He joins me, flipping onto his back and dragging me on top of him.
“You’re going to sit on my face, fuck my tongue and come until you can’t breathe.”
“Wait,” I squawk. “I want you inside of me.”
“Not until I get my taste. I’ve been dreaming of this. Waiting my whole life for this chance.”
His whole life? What does that even mean? As in, he’s never went down on a girl before? That can’t be, can it?
“Take your shirt off,” he orders.
“My shirt?”
His response to my question is to reach up, grab my collar and rend my sleep-shirt in two.
“Your shirt,” he confirms with immense satisfaction.
I’m going to run out of clothes at this rate. My wet panties are next and the thin cotton and lace provide no resistance to his brute strength. He slides his arms under my thighs and lifts me onto his face. His movements are too practiced for a beginner, too smooth for a novice.
But none of it matters once his tongue hits my clit. His breath is like a fire, lighting up every nerve inside of my body. This is no gentle loving or teasing caress. It’s a full-on assault.
I’ve never done this before—ride a guy’s face, that is. Whatever embarrassment I might’ve had is eradicated by his unabashed enthusiasm. He buries his face in my pussy, devouring me as if I’m the greatest thing he’s ever tasted and he can’t get enough.
It’s glorious. I feel desirable and sexy. This gorgeous man with his movie star face and his athlete’s body is putting everything he’s got into making me orgasm. That’s his entire goal.
Sit on my face. Fuck my tongue. Come until you can’t breathe.
I close my eyes and do as he orders. I grab the headboard with both hands and grind down. He grunts his approval. His mouth is all over me. He sucks hard on my clit. His chin provides exquisite pressure against my pussy. His tongue thrusts rhythmically inside my sex.
His hands push me open until I’m not so much riding him as I’m just hanging on. It’s too much for my body to contain. I grit my teeth, but a scream escapes. The vortex of ecstasy grabs hold and I no longer have control. He’s too skilled. Toes curling, my core contracting, I come in a heady rush.
He laps it all up, sliding a hand up my spine to keep me upright when all my bones turn to jelly. He turns his face from my cunt and rests a cheek against my thigh.
“You taste like fucking heaven,” he breathes.
“You wrecked me,” I reply.
He chuckles, whiffs of hot air skipping across my thigh. I’m so sensitive even that wrings a shudder out of me. He turns again, nosing my inner thigh.
“You’re soft here. Unmarked, too,” he says thickly.
I don’t see it coming. I didn’t know when he said he was going to mark me that it meant an actual mark. I hadn’t realized when I ordered him to make me his, that it would mean this. He scrapes his teeth across my skin and then bites down—hard.
It’s so erotic, so animalistic that I cry out in surprise. Pleasure shoots through me, short-circuiting my brain. It’s as if he’s plugged me into a socket. Energy courses through me. There’s not enough air in the room.
“Oh my God. What are you doing to me?” A high-pitched whine escapes. I start to shake as a bigger, stronger wave of euphoria swamps me.
The view tilts as he throws me backward. He parts my legs, brushing his fingers first against the bite mark and then against my sopping cunt.
“You ready?” He rasps in my ear.
“Yes.” I don’t know what he’s going to do or where he’s going to take me, but I will go wherever he wants.
The crown of his cock presses into me, the invasion insistent and heavy. He feels too big for me. I don’t know if I can take all of him.
“I’ll fit. You were made for me,” he reassures.
He eases past my pussy lips, spreading me wide. The penetration is painful at first. My body is wholly unprepared, even after the orgasms, for a cock his size.
“You’re too big,” I whimper.
“No, shh. No, little one. It’s just right.” He palms my ass, massaging one cheek while stretching me wider.
The head inches in. I’m a ball of sensation, hyper aware of every bit of friction, every vein in his cock, every throb of his shaft as he pushes inside. His fingers find the bite again, rubbing along the raw edges. My eyes roll into the back of my head with the pleasure of it.
“See,” he crows as he slides another section of his shaft inside my pussy. “We’re a perfect fit. Open for me, Cassie. Open your pretty pussy and take me in. Let me fuck you. Let me love you.”
He hooks my legs over his arms and presses forward in slow, inexorable movements. I never imagined pain could feel this good. I begin to meet him with shallow pumps of my hips. His arms begin to tremble and a low growl rumbles in his chest. The veins in his neck pop out.
He’s losing control, I realize.
“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck. I can’t—“
“I don’t care,” I cry. “Fuck me hard, Edon.”
His lips draw back. I catch a brief glimpse of a feral need covering his face before he ducks his head and thrusts hard.
My body jerks in erotic shock. A cry flies from my throat. This is what it feels like to be truly claimed. He’s possessing me—not just physically but emotionally and mentally. He’s everywhere. Inside my body, inside my blood.
He fucks me like he’s b
een storing up thirty-five years of pent up desire. He presses me open, forcing me to take all the pleasure he can shower on me. I writhe under him, gripped by desire and heat and hunger.
Our coupling turns savage as the unbridled lust overtakes both of us. I pull at his hair. He bites my shoulder. I claw his back. He pounds into me so hard my hips will be bruised tomorrow.
I don’t want tender or soft or sweet. I glory in the primitive possession. I wouldn’t exchange this for anything. Not all the gold in the world. Not the ability to eat ice cream every day of my life and not gain an ounce. Not for anything.
The pleasure of loving this man is beyond all that I had imagined existed in the world.
Happiness was for others, I had once thought, but not for me.
But here is Edon, offering me the world. Greedily, I grab for it. I clutch him to me and hang on to his hard, hot body. Feverish, he pumps into me faster, his cockhead slamming against the sliver of flesh in a way that makes me shudder and weep.
Our sweat slick bodies crash against each other as he rams home again and against until the climax storms through me. His own orgasm barrels through his body. I feel his ass cheeks contract, then a flood of scorching heat fills me. He pulls out, grabs his cock and pump furiously until another orgasm wracks his body. Come spurts out of his cock and rains onto my mark.
He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.
“Cassie, you’re mine now.” He reaches between us and rubs his come into the bite. “No one can ever touch you again.”
8
Cassie
Edon wakes me up a little before dawn to "eat his breakfast," he says. I hope he’s having something more filling later, but I don’t complain. Not when he uses his wide shoulders to spread my legs apart. Not when his fingers and tongue do magic things before the sun peeps above the treetops. Not when he turns me on my stomach and hammers into me with the force of a bulldozer.
"I can’t move," I mumble into the pillow when he’s finally done with me.
"You don’t need to." His voice holds so much smugness, I wonder how he can even move about the room. He gives my ass one last lingering pat, tucks the blankets around my neck, and quietly walks out.
I fall into a sex-induced stupor and when my eyes flick open for the day, the sun’s climbed halfway up the sky. I stumble out of bed and into Edon’s massive bathroom. Whereas mine is all white and gold, Edon’s is decked out in dark gray granite with silvery stone veins. There are enough nozzles in the shower to wash a car.
I plop down on the granite bench and let the water thump against my well-used body. Absently, I rub fingers over the bite mark. It’s no longer raw, but it’s there—almost as if he’s tattooed me with his teeth and saliva. I shiver a bit at the erotic memory. I hope he bites me again. I hope he bites me until every secret part of me is covered in his marks.
With an excited shudder, I lean back against the warmed tile. So this is what it’s like having good sex. It’s the reverse of the experience I had with Cody. After I had sex with him the first time, my body was sore, but my heart ached way worse. I felt hollow inside, as if I’d given away something precious and it was met with disgust.
This morning, my body aches but my heart is singing. With each twinge and pang, I’m reminded of how fiercely Edon had loved me last night. Every part of him was dedicated to pleasing me. I didn’t know that sex could satisfy me emotionally. That’s why a business deal made sense, but I realize now why Edon was resisting.
Sex like that takes your soul out of your body. Someone has to be there to catch it or when it lands, it’ll shatter.
Edon caught me again and again. I hope I did the same for him. I want him to know that my heart is as committed to him as my body is. I want that attachment thing he was talking about. I don’t know why it didn’t occur last night or this morning, but I won’t let another night go by without it happening.
I might start with him in my mouth again. I didn’t know I could be turned on by giving a blow job, but last night when I was on my knees and his cock was in my mouth, I grew so wet I could’ve drown in my own lust.
Imagining the muscles in his thighs flexing and tensing next to my face makes me tingly. Quickly, I shut off the shower jets. If I allow myself to fantasize any longer, I’m going to be too aroused to function. I have a serious plan to execute, and I can’t get distracted.
Operation Convince My Soon-To-Be Husband That I Love Him commences now.
Unfortunately, when I step outside, my plans are immediately derailed.
"Good morning!" Ronnie waves to me from a cute little white cart. "Edon told me to hustle over to give you a tour. He wanted to do it himself, but some billionaire in Paris wanted to go over her order with him one more time."
Hiding my disappointment, I hop in next to her. She hands me a thermos and continues, "He’ll be so glad to dump all this office stuff on your shoulders."
I unscrew the thermos and take a sip of perfectly brewed coffee before answering. "I don’t know the first thing about running a business, Ronnie. I did payroll."
"So? You think any of us know anything about running a business? We’ve had to learn it, one mistake at a time. You aren’t going to screw up worse than we already have." She drives down a path and stops at the edge of a clearing. "This is where all the magic is done." She waves a hand at three large buildings. Their metal roofs glint under the sunlight. "We have more orders than we can fill. Right now, our waitlist is nine months. Fortunately, we’ve brought in four more able-bodied workers, but Edon’s our master craftsman. Each minute that he spends cursing out the fax machine or typing out emails with two fingers slows down our production time. If we want to capitalize on our new growth, we need someone like you to take over in the office."
I cast her a speculative look. "Is that why you approached me?"
She nods. "I overheard you talking to your friend on the phone about how you have all these skills but that no one wants to use them."
"It’s pretty drastic to offer marriage to someone just to get access to their Excel spreadsheets."
"Well…" She casts me a sidelong glance. "Edon said he told you that we’re—"
"Shifters? Werewolves? Folks with extra-special abilities?"
"Yes. That."
"So what? You sensed I was compatible? I smelled like his mom? What?"
"Ew. Gross and no. You smelled good. Most humans don’t smell good to us. Your scents are so strong whether it’s a fragrance in your shampoo or the detergent in your clothes or the lotion you put on at night. It’s overpowering, but you…” She leans over and sniffs. "You smell like October—apples and pinecones."
“Does everyone have a specific scent then? Because I don’t smell anything from you.” As opposed to Edon, who smells like a crisp breeze to me.
"But Edon does?" she guesses.
I nod. Every time that man comes into a room, it’s like a breath of fresh air.
Ronnie smiles smugly and engages the cart. As it rolls forward, she says, "It’s because he’s your mate. As your mate bond grows, you’ll gain some of his abilities."
"Like I’ll be able to change?" I hold up my arm and stare at it. Is it hairier than normal? I can’t tell.
Beside me, Ronnie chuckles. "I don’t believe so, but your sense of smell gets better. You might be quicker and stronger." She winks at me. "Have more stamina."
I blush, which makes Ronnie roar with laughter. When we reach the lodge, her happiness dims a wattage.
"I have to help cook for a week,” she says, clearly bummed.
"You make it sound like it’s a punishment," I joke.
"It is." She’s serious. "I made a big mistake and because of that, I have to do something I don’t enjoy. It’s part of being in a pack. We all have to do our part or someone will get hurt."
"How will I know what my part is?"
"For now, it’s getting our books in order. You’ll figure out the rest as you go along. Besides, I’m sure that any punishment that Edon
metes out is something you’ll enjoy.” She winks and then starts laughing again when I turn beet red.
I follow her up the steps. Inside, the lodge is bustling. Workers are coming in and shedding their shoes at the door and taking turns in the washroom to ready for lunch. Two of them start bickering about who was in line first. In a flash, the bickers turn to shoves.
"I was in line first, asshole," says one light-haired male, pushing a shorter man in the shoulder.
The shorter man knocks the arm away. "Fuck you were. My boots are in front of yours."
The two circle each other. Their hands are up in front of their chests. I might not have much wolf sense, but I can feel the tension in the room rising. The onlookers’ eyes are turning bright with interest, as they sense a fight is about to break out.
I back right into a wall. A warm, breathing wall. I look over my shoulder to see Edon standing behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders and gently but firmly pushes me behind him.
"What’s going on?" he says.
He didn’t shout, but everyone stops in their tracks.
The light-haired fellow opens his mouth and then realizes how stupid it would be to tell his alpha that they were fighting over who got to wash his hands first. He clamps it shut and arches his neck slightly. "Nothing, Alpha."
Edon shifts to the other male, who does the same action. "Nothing."
"Good." He takes my hand and leads me past the throng of spectators who, having lost the chance to view a fight, turn their interest to me.
We stop before a large room that is filled with papers. I presume there’s a desk or two underneath, but I can’t see the surface.
"This is the headquarters of OBS," Edon declares with a big arm wave.
"This is more terrifying that the shifting," I joke. I start flipping through the papers. There are invoices, sales flyers, promotional materials, and checks. I pick one up and my eyes nearly pop out at the number of zeroes on it. "You have a huge payment here."
