The Lion's Pride(6)

By: Terra Wolf & Olivia Arran

She bucked against my hand, rubbing herself against the finger I had worked inside the scrap of lace. I didn’t need asking twice. I swirled my thumb around her clit, brushing and teasing, then finally sliding inside.

“I want to taste you,” I muttered in her ear, bringing my finger to my mouth and licking it clean. Her juices coated my tongue, firing through my blood, heading straight to my cock. “More,” I moaned, going to my knees. Dragging her panties down to mid-thigh, I spread her wide then licked a straight line through her folds, sucking and swirling my tongue on her beaded clit. Her nectar filled my mouth. More!

Her legs threatened to buckle, her fingers digging in to my shoulders.

Bracing her above me, I feasted, sucking and licking, every taste, every shudder feeding the animal inside of me.

Her ragged breaths were loud in my ears, each groan making my cock twitch and strain. She tensed above me, nails straining against my skin, her low moan echoing around the room as she came on a shudder.

Rising to my feet, I caught her in my arms, my lips joining hers. Would she still want—?

I felt a tug on my jeans, her nimble fingers making quick work of the button and sliding the zipper down. She went to drop to her knees.

I grabbed her arms, stopping her. “No—” I barely recognized my own voice, the sound low and hoarse, “—not this time. I don’t think I could take it.” I winced at the admission, but the mating heat was riding me hard and I feared her soft lips around my shaft would be the end. And I didn’t want to spill in her mouth.

“This time?”

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “I’m a shifter—we have a better recovery time than human males.”

* * *


My head was spinning, the man in front of me consuming all of my attention, my thoughts. His voice did wicked, naughty things to me, stroking over my skin like a tuning fork, dancing over my nerve endings.

This was what I had needed, the event to signify my life changing. A bit melodramatic! I smothered a snort. Now wasn’t the time for thinking. I had done way too much of that recently, and where had it got me? Nowhere. It had changed nothing. So, for once, I was going to take a risk and live a little, as Tina and Kate had suggested. And what better way than with a hot-as-hell guy who for some insane reason seemed to find me irresistible.

I rubbed my thumb over the head of his cock, satisfaction flaring through me as his lips parted on a silent moan and his eyelids fluttered in surrender. He was thick and hard in my hand, his skin satin soft as I rolled my hand up and down his long length. I still couldn’t quite believe what my eyes were telling me. The man was huge! Everywhere. His chest was made up of thick muscle and deep lines, with black ink snaking around his shoulders and down, decorating the one side of his torso.

But it wasn’t his body that compelled me, it was his eyes. The way he looked at me, like I was important. Like this was important. Maybe a little too important; after all, I wasn’t ready to dive back into a relationship, not after what had happened with—

“What are you thinking?”

His words yanked me back to the moment. That voice! I shivered, not bothering to hide what it did to me. I mean, I had his cock in my hand, I was pretty sure we’d gone past coyness. “What this will feel like,” I murmured, squeezing his shaft. Hell, yeah! My friends would be proud of me!

“Feel like…where?” he growled, his green eyes glowing in the dim light.

He was going to make me say it. I cleared my throat, forcing myself not to look away. “In my—” Okay, I couldn’t. I’d never been good at talking dirty; the words just didn’t come naturally to me. Never had. It was one of the things— Aw, hell, I was thinking again! “Kiss me,” I tried to demand, but it came out sounding dangerously like a plea. Could he see the need in my eyes? I wanted to be ravished, to feel that unstoppable lust again, to lose myself in him.

He nodded once, a brief tilt of his head, like he had accepted the unspoken challenge. His mouth came down on mine, his hands reaching around to caress my ass. A rip of fabric, then my legs were spread as he lifted me up and pinned me against the wall. His shaft nudged at my entrance, and I froze, the fog of lust lifting for a split second of sanity.


“Shifter,” he grunted, between nipping and kissing at my lips.

Of course. Shifters didn’t carry disease, and it wasn’t as if I had to worry about pregnancy. Not after what the doctors had told me. The now familiar grief threatened to overwhelm and drag me back under. No! I gave myself a mental shove, blocking it out. No thinking, remember?