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“Why fight?” I whisper, memorizing the feel of her skin, The way it pebbles with goosebumps. “Why not let yourself enjoy it? We both know this is inevitable. I hear your wolf, don’t forget. I feel her. It’s inevitable. Like trying to fight a force of nature.” We both groan when I part her lips, dragging my fingers through her wetness. Her brow scrunches up in concentration, or she’s trying to convince herself she doesn’t feel what we both know she does.
“That’s right,” I whisper, watching her every move, every twitch of her face. “Give in. Let your body take what it wants.”
“Not you,” she growls, but I hear the desperation in it.
“Only me,” I correct before driving two fingers deep inside her. She gasps again, going stiff, her muscles clamping down around me and drawing me deeper. So tight, so hot, and now nothing in the world could stop me. Not when her arousal is so sweet, wrapping itself around me, confirming what I already knew to be true. She is helpless against me.
“Your body wants this,” I whisper, sliding in and out, her juices coating my fingers and running down my palm as she whimpers and fights. “It wants me. Only me.”
“No… It doesn’t…”
“Give it up, little wolf,” I croon, chuckling when she shudders upon my connection with her G-spot. “Stop lying to yourself. You feel what’s happening; I know you do. I feel you tightening up around me. I hear you breathing. I can even feel your heart racing. You’re desperate to come, aren’t you?”
“I’m not. I’m not.” It ends on a sob. She lifts her hips, meeting my strokes, and I know I’ve won. It isn’t the triumph of defeating the witches. It’s exultation.
“Come for me, little wolf,” I whisper, almost holding my breath, my body tensing, my cock painfully erect and oozing precum. No, I can’t. I can’t give in.
No matter how much I want to take my own advice and stop fighting.
It might be for the best that her cunt clenches around my fingers, her body going stiff, and her mouth opens in a silent scream before she falls apart all around me, shuddering, almost weeping, while her nectar flows freely in the wake of a shattering orgasm.
“Sweet little wolf,” I whisper, withdrawing my fingers slowly, savoring every last whine and whimper that falls from her lips. When she opens her eyes, it’s to find me slowly, deliberately licking her off my fingers. I want to catch every last drop.
“Are you finished? Have you had your fun?”
The question makes me laugh. Even now, so obviously under my thrall, she refuses to give up. “Oh no, little wolf. I haven’t begun to have fun.”
“Well, I’m a little tired out. No more fun for me tonight. You need to leave.” She makes the mistake of trying to push herself into a sitting position with her palms on the sofa.
And something inside me snaps. I will not be denied.
With one hand, I shove her back down, holding her in place by her throat while wrenching the towel from beneath her with the other hand. Using my sharp canines, I tear strips from the towel, staring down at her while I work.
“What are you doing?” Now there’s fear in her voice, and rightly so. I will not be denied. Soon, she’s going to learn that. I’ll drive the lesson into her thick skull if it takes me the rest of my life. She is going to learn.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” The fact is, I’m not quite sure what I’m doing. It’s almost as if I’m standing outside myself, watching as I flip her onto her stomach. She struggles, kicks, and screams, but it’s no use. I use the strips of towel to bind her wrists together behind her back. Yes, she’s strong, but after multiple layers of binding, she doesn’t have a chance of breaking free.
“You’d better be careful,” I warn, standing, watching with dark delight as she struggles. “We might heal quickly, but I would still hate to see you dislocate your shoulders. It’s pretty painful stuff.”
Her eyes are wide when she turns her head, full of shock and more than a small bit of fear. “You bastard. You fucking bastard!”
“Sure. Tell me one I’ve never heard before.” I leave her there for a minute, searching her rooms before finding what I’m looking for.
“What’s that supposed to—” It’s as much as she can get out before I place the pillowcase over her head. “Are you fucking serious? All right, I get it; fun is fun. But this is ridiculous!”
“Do not ever call me ridiculous,” I warn, rolling her over again. “And this is no game, so don’t pretend like it is. You’re insulting my intelligence, and your own.”
As much as I love seeing her face when she’s giving herself over to pleasure, there’s something even more satisfying about seeing her like this. Helpless, disoriented behind the satin covering her head. She twists and fights and tries to work the pillowcase up, but it’s no use. She is entirely under my control.
