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When I raise an eyebrow, he says gruffly, “I need at least another month of you to myself before you’re allowed to pick up another stray. I don’t like sharing.” He narrows his eyes at the now closed partition. “Especially with young males.”
Unable to stay annoyed, I launch myself at him, lifting my skirt and climbing onto his lap. “It’s because you’re a grumpy 729-year-old, isn’t it? You’re jealous some young pup is going to steal me away.”
He tips me over onto the seat and settles on top of me. “He’d have to go through me and I make a formidable enemy.” He drops his face into my cleavage and caresses me with his lips.
“You’re crushing my hair,” I whisper, pulling his head up to mine and kissing him, slipping my tongue inside his mouth.
He groans, his arm banding around me, pulling me flush against him so I can feel every hard inch of his muscular body, including his erect penis which is pressed into the vee of my thighs. “Your dress too.”
He runs his lips over my cheek, causing a rush of tingles wherever he touches. The contrast between his light caresses and his hard grip on my waist, the thrust of his leg between mine, makes me squirm beneath him.
“You’re messing up my makeup,” I gasp as he presses increasingly harder kisses to my neck, eventually nipping the delicate skin beneath my ear. I forget my hair, my make-up, everything as I arch into him.
“I want you, sweetheart,” he says, his voice strained. “I want to stamp myself all over you.”
I cling to him, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Do it,” I whisper.
He doesn’t need further urging. He never does. Once my wolfman gets the green light, it’s go time.
In one swift move, he sits up, bunches my gown in a fist and lifts me onto his lap. He arranges the skirt of my gown so it covers both our legs before reaching underneath and pressing his fingers against the crotch of my silk panties.
He makes a strangled sound. “You’re soaked.”
“For you,” I whisper, kissing his jaw and biting his ear.
“You don’t need these.” He tears the panties away, drawing a yelp from me as I feel the sting.
I’m about to tell him off for ripping my brand-new panties, but he distracts me with a tongue in my mouth. Moaning, I cling to him, dueling him for dominance. I want to feel him, all of him. I try to shove my hand into his shirt and when I can’t get to his skin, I try to pull the buttons off.
He pushes my fingers away and opens them himself, grabbing my hand and pressing it against his pecs. The touch of his hot skin, the crisp hair matting his chest, the beat of his heart, it makes me dizzy with anticipation. I rain kisses onto his face, neck and shoulders, everywhere I can reach.
Gripping my thighs, he pulls my hips closer as he unbuckles and unzips himself. He leans back into the seat, thrusting up inside me in one smooth move. I cry out, my head tipping back as pleasure shudders through me.
Once I’ve adjusted to the size of him, I grip him with my thighs, rocking on top of him, his bruising hands guiding my hips. Everything around us fades as my green eyes cling to his golden ones, silently speaking of our pleasure and love.
“Oh god, I’m coming!”
“I’ve got you.” His voice is guttural as his arms anchor me, his hips pistoning into me.
I tip my head forward, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming as my orgasm washes over me.
Keenan does the same, biting my shoulder hard enough to make me jerk as he comes, grunting against me.
He continues to hold me as I melt on top of him, his hands the only thing keeping me upright.
“You bit me,” I mumble.
“Not the mating bite,” he quickly says. “Don’t worry.”
I frown and lean back to look at him. We’ve never talked about the mating bite, mostly because it’s never come up, but I know about it. It solidifies the bond between mates, making it easier for them to track each other anywhere on the planet.
“Why not the mating bite?” I ask.
He lifts me from him and I blush as a trickle of semen runs down my thigh. Keenan ripped my panties so I can’t put them back on. Just as I think it, he tucks them in his jacket pocket. I grab a handful of Kleenex and clean up as best I can.
“The mating bite will hurt you,” Keenan says as if that explains everything.
I read that it would hurt but not anything I can’t handle. “Lots of things hurt, Keenan. My period cramps hurt, yet there’s nothing you can do about that. Just because something hurts doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”
