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Except for he left my pussy throbbing. I growled in frustration as he stopped again.
He kissed his way up my belly to between my breasts, then one nipple, and the other, careful to avoid touching my bite scar. He braced himself over me as he kissed my lips. I ran my hands up his muscled arms, memorizing each line and curve and groove and ridge, and all the little knots and bumps and bruises. He shifted his weight to one hand and caressed between my legs, lightly, with the other. I mewled and squirmed, then growled at him.
He chuckled and moved his hand back to the sheets.
“That’s cruel,” I said breathlessly, as my body pled for his touch. Time to take matters into my own hands.
“No,” he brushed his hand away.
“Yes. If you can’t make me—”
“I didn’t say you could. Stay here. And don’t touch yourself.”
“But you like watching me. Perhaps that’s the problem?”
“Behave.”
His command made my brainstem quiver.
“I love it when you’re like this,” he whispered, “When I can feel your body ready, begging for mine. When I smell it. When you’resoclose. When you’re so soft and pliant and...”
“Submissive?” I whispered.
“You aren’t there yet. I savor earning it.”
He moved towards the candles on the low table. I squirmed after him and met him at the edge of the bed. He had a pillar candle in one hand. I slithered along him, sliding my hands along his ass and the side of his thighs, memorizing those grooves and lines as well, and bent to take his cock in my mouth.
“That’s dangerous, pretty wolf,” he said softly, although he buried his free, ribbon-wrapped hand in my hair while balancing the pillar candle in the other.
It was also sweet revenge for him torturing me for ten minutes and leaving me with an aching, throbbing pussy. I took him as deeply as I could, then licked him down to the base while cradling his balls, very gently, before drawing my tongue down the center of the two globes. His fingers clenched on my hair before releasing me, and a moment later, a length of ribbon drifted over my curled spine.
I shivered and twitched. Tickle/caress sent my skin tingling. I focused on his cock, stroking downward with one hand while taking him back in my mouth.
The ribbon kept tormenting my spine. I moaned softly around his cock while his body tensed and his shaft hardened further and his breathing was raw. I tasted salt on the back of my tongue.
Served him right. I laughed with a mouthful of him.
He growled and withdrew the ribbon. Then a thin, burning stream slid down my spine before stopping and burning into my skin.
I whimpered and squirmed.
“Don’t bite,” he said softly, holding my head on his cock with one hand while pouring a second, thin line of candle wax to the left of my spine, while the first line hardened. “I can smell how much you enjoy this, naughty, naughty wolf.”
A third, thin strip on the other side. My skin burned. The sweet pain made my pussy even damper, and I whined, pulling myself off him so I could breathe and pant and whimper.
He set the candle and ribbon aside and turned me onto my back before moving over me once more. The scalding burn of the wax left my skin sweetly raw. He spread my thighs with a soft touch, breathing hard, and closed his teeth over my windpipe, bearing down hard enough my throat flexed and a jolt of anxiety went through me, followed by a sweet rush of docility. He growled, low in his throat, as his body finally entered mine, as he kept a hold of my throat.
I whimpered. His scent whisperedgood, good.
He released my throat, and I breathed in with a gasp, drawing in only his scent and taste. My scalded skin raked along the tangled sheets, and his thrust filled me to the core and point of sweet pain. I scratched my nails along his back and then along my own throat. He groaned and watched before pushing my fingers into my own throat to encourage me to rake my own skin harder.
I couldn’t even scream when I came. I just breathed out as it grabbed my body and bent my spine and my left-handed fingernails dug into my throat from the spasm. My pussy bit down on his cock and pulled him with me. His spine bowed as he came deep inside me, and he groaned.
We collapsed together in a quivering pile.
I drifted, content and empty, while his fingers explored the raw, scalded spots along my spine and he whispered how much he loved me.
Crawdad Chips & Questionable Taste
