When he’s seated deep, Roderick stays there.
Focusing on the mirror, I watch his broad chest expand and contract with deep breaths, his exhales so forceful that I feel the brush of air against my back.
“How are you?” he asks, like I just stumbled into him on the street rather than have his cock so deep in me that I can feel his thighs against my ass.
“Oh, you know, horny as hell,” I say back with the cheeriest tone I can manage when all I want to do is beg.
Roderick chuckles, the rumble radiating into me through the place we’re joined.
Has there ever been a more delicious sensation?
But then he rolls his hips, and my eyes roll back.
It’s like a wave is going through the werewolf’s body, bringing different dimensions and angles to the way he thrusts inside me. This isn’t some frantic piston slamming into my cervix until I’m wincing in discomfort. This is a sensual approach that makes every bit of my insides feel acknowledged and worshipped.
In summary, Roderick is amazing at wielding his dick.
If the bathroom counter were anything other than granite, I’m sure my fingers would be leaving indentations.
“So good,” I whimper, almost petulant about the fact that I’ve had to deal with what can only be described as mediocre sex up until this point in my life.
Why don’t more men know how to do this? Why did I have to get subpar attempts for so many years?
So unfair.
But now, at least, my vagina is being treated right.
Meeting Roderick’s half-lidded eyes in the mirror, I can’t help but say, “Thank you.”
His brow twists in confusion, and then he leans his torso forward until his chest covers my back just as well as his leather jacket did earlier.
“You trust me enough to have you this way.” His words come out on a hot breath, burning my ear as he continues to meet my eyes in the mirror. “Thankyou.” Another deep roll to emphasize his point leaves me panting.
“I want to come again,” I whimper. “So bad.”
There’s a teasing note in his voice. “Greedy woman.”
“Yes,” I moan. “I am. Give it to me.” Reaching back, I dig my nails into one of the firm globes of his ass.
Roderick growls, gently biting my neck. Then his hands cup my breasts, rough thumbs dragging back and forth over my nipples.
Every sensation is glorious and has me gasping his name as the earlier orgasm helps topple me into a second one now with the indirect touches.
Roderick grunts when I pulse around him. His thrusts turn disjointed with a frantic edge that only prolongs my pleasure. Then he shouts a string of curses as his arms go iron tight around me and his cock stays buried deep in my pussy, spilling his release.
I love the way his ragged breaths muss my hair and the sweat on his skin mixes a salty note in with his normal spicy body-wash scent.
He mumbles a word, but over my own panting, I miss it.
“What was that?” I ask as I tease my nails along his forearm. The limb is still locked around my midriff, but I don’t mind. The dark hairs on his arm rise in the wake of my touch, making me smile.
“Perfection,” Roderick says, then burrows his head under my messy hair so he can kiss my neck.
A giggle breaks free at the treatment. The light laughter earns me his gaze in the mirror, along with a wide, wicked grin.
Yes, I think to myself.This is a werewolf I want to keep.
For now at least.
