12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

F ury

Rational thought deserts me as I claim her mouth in a brutal kiss, tongue delving deep even as my fangs catch on her lip. She moans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my chest like a second pulse.

My hands roam her body possessively, skimming her ribs, spanning her waist, palming the perfect globes of her ass to grind her against my rapidly hardening cock. She matches my fervor, fingers twisting in my hair, blunt nails scratching deliciously at my scalp.

Breaking from her lips, I blaze a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the elegant column of her throat. She arches like a bow, hands fisting in my shoulder pelt, desperate for an anchor.

"Fury," she pants, my name like a prayer and an invitation. "Please…"

I know what she needs, can smell her arousal, thick and heady, clouding my senses. But I won't rush, not when she's posed like this, spread open, riding my cock like she's waited a lifetime for it .

Slowly, worshipfully, I learn her with lips and tongue and teeth. The fluttering pulse just below her ear. The delicate dip in her collarbone. The soft swells of her breasts, nipples straining against thin, pink flannel.

She writhes and whimpers so sweetly, reduced to incoherent pleas that shoot straight to my ego and my already aching cock. Spurred on by her responsiveness, kiss my way lower, intent on mapping every secret bit of skin usually hidden from my hungry gaze.

Grazing my palms from her hips up, my thumbs pulling the fabric with them, I relieve her of her short nightgown. Sitting back, I hiss, then groan, some odd combination of wolven and human noises that have one thing in common—appreciation.

Finally, I force my mouth to use words, but the only syllable I can manage is a guttural, " Fuck ."

Her breasts are perfect, just the right size, her nipples a duskier color than the pastel of her nightwear.

"I can't wait to…" I almost don't get the words out before my mouth is licking, nipping, sucking. My cock is as hard as when I was a teen, but I'm not as impatient. I'm in no hurry to race to the finish line when this is going to be the sweetest journey I've ever taken.

Plucking a tight peak with one hand, my head is bent to her other nipple. She moans low in the back of her throat as I roll one tender tip while nipping the other.

Tally is hissing in pleasure, riding me as though she was born for this, her scent perfuming the air. Taking a chance, totally tuned to her response, I glide the tips of my fangs from the crest of one breast down until one sharp point bisects her hardened bud.

The caress was gentle, packing just the tempting promise of what my fangs are capable of. Although her eyes roll in the back of her head as she gasps in shocked pleasure, the most telling thing of all is the explosion of her arousal scent that calls to the most primal part of me .

Using the flat of my tongue, I follow the exact trail my fang just traveled as I bathe her pebbled tip with licking caresses. Then I perform the same routine on her other breast and am rewarded with her tightened grip in my pelt accompanied by her fast, panting, desperate breaths.

She's wildly pressing against my cock, urging me on as I focus my attention on her breasts—sucking harder, flicking my tongue over her nipples while rolling them between my lips. She tastes so damn good, is so responsive. This is better than my wildest dreams.

"Please."

Before my drugged senses can focus on what she's begging for, she shifts first onto one knee, then the other as she pulls her panties off. When I'd imagined this moment—a thousand times since we've been stranded in this cabin together—I'd pictured tearing them off myself, perhaps with my teeth. But this is better, her desperation skyrocketing my arousal.

With a groan of appreciation, I stand and toss her gently on the bed, then pause a moment, giving her time to stop the forward motion of our passion, which is moving faster than a bullet train.

"Fuck me, Fury."

Lust punches through me at those three words. A definitive answer that we're not going too fast. If anything we're going too slow.

"Open your legs for me, Tally."

I don't know where I find the self-control to hold back instead of diving in, but I'm sure the big reveal will be worth the wait. Tally catches my gaze and gives me a seductive grin as she opens herself one tempting inch at a time.

Where did the quiet scientist disappear to? Because the woman before me is a tigress toying with her prey—me—as she teases me. Finally, placing her soles on the mattress, she rests her knees on the bed, splaying herself open for me. My eyes drink in the sight of her slippery folds, already slick and inviting .

" Fuck! Fuck, Tally. You can't expect me to hold back from that."

In all the years I've been on Earth, I've never felt more wolven, more Other, than I do right now. I pounce, landing on my knees beneath her widespread thighs as I bend to the task of pleasuring her with my mouth.

Delving straight into her core, I pierce her with my tongue, taking care that my fangs don't harm her. She's hot and wet and slightly sweet. I've had her taste on my tongue for half a second and I'm already addicted to it. I can give it a name. Heaven. She tastes like heaven.

Oh, my Tally's a noisy one. She's full of sighs and moans and broken little half-words as I delve, then pull back to lick her crease from her channel to her little clit and back again.

My hands cup her ass cheeks possessively, holding her close while I push my face deeper between her legs.

The air thickens with our combined scents—her arousal and my need—and the rustle of quilts as they shift beneath us. Her hips buck against my mouth in response to every flick of my tongue against her clit.

My fangs tingle as I lap at her nectar, my feral instincts clawing to the surface, demanding release. Her taste makes my blood sing with lust, drives me to claim her completely. The warmth of her core against my tongue feels like coming home after a long exile.

Tally moans and writhes against the pillows, scratching at the quilt with her nails, gasping my name like a primitive prayer. My cock is pounding beneath my jeans, demanding escape, but this moment is only about her.

I nip gently at her thighs, drawing a line as I drag two of my fangs from the crease of her thigh to her knee. She gasps, flinching away for a moment, then returning to the same position as she hisses, "Do it again."

My chuckle vibrates against her flesh as I oblige, then return to the part of her I know is aching for me. Sliding my tongue back into her wet heat, I make sure my claws are retracted as I rub her pretty pink pearl, quickly learning what makes her keen with bliss.

When her thighs clamp against the sides of my head, I know she's close. Her feet scrabble against the quilt as she lifts her pelvis, asking for more. Deciding there's a better way to put my tongue to use, I flick her clit and suck her whole mound into my mouth as I slide one finger inside her. She rewards me with a long, rolling moan. When I slip a second finger inside her wet heat and flick harder with my tongue, every muscle in her body tightens, then releases with a shout as she comes undone.

"Fury!"

Then there are no more words as she devolves into little noises and nonsense syllables, her walls clenching rhythmically around me as her blunt nails grip my shoulders with such force I imagine she's drawing blood, even through my thick pelt.

Just when I think her pleasure has peaked and I'm ready to nurse her to conclusion with a softer mouth and slower thrusts, something inside her seems to catch again and she reaches an even more powerful climax.

It's only when her guttural shouts soften, then fade, and all of her muscles give way as she melts into the mattress that I know her release has come to a complete stop.

Shamelessly gripping my shoulder pelt, she drags me up her body, close enough to kiss me over and over.

"Good. So good."

It would feel like faint praise if I hadn't just ridden her to a spectacular climax, one for the record books.

I kiss her everywhere, lips, cheeks, eyelids, and scalp damp from exertion and pleasure.

"Sorry that was such a terrible first time," I joke. "Next time will be better. "

She grips my cheeks with both palms, giving me duck lips, exposing my lower fangs. Our gazes meet, hers sparkles with amusement.

"Better than that, huh? I'm definitely up for it."

She's still panting as she reaches to my cock, stroking it over my pants. "You're up, too. Let's give it a try."

"Now? After that, I'd think you'd be ready for a nap."

"Nope. Ready to fuck. Take off your pants. Let's see what you're packing, wolven."

I pause long enough that the room seems quieter, although the logs are still hissing and snapping in the fireplace.

"About that…" I might as well spill it. "Wolven have knots."

She's a wildlife biologist. I doubt I have to go into detail.

"Don't worry, we only use it when we mate." Hmm. That sounded lame, right? "It doesn't really engage until we find our soulbound. When we mate a soulbound female, it's for life."

We're so close our breaths are mingling, but suddenly her eyes are hooded and I can't read her at all. The room is so full of our musk, even her scent doesn't give anything away.

"So for now it's regular sex?" She's squinting at me as though I'm a book with tiny print that she can't quite make out.

"Define regular."