Chapter Twelve #2
There’s something almost longing in her look, a hint of desire that she doesn’t quite conceal.
“The scent of your pheromones,” she continues, her voice soft and contemplative, “it smells like rain, like pure wind, like the ocean. I would like to feel it again.”
Her request brings a smirk to my lips. “Well, since you asked nicely,” I say, and I let my pheromones flow into the air.
The effect is almost immediate. Her reaction is visible.
It is obvious that she isn’t trying to defend herself with her pheromones.
Her breathing grows deep and heavy, her eyes moistening as she inhales deeply, absorbing the scent as if it were a breath of fresh air. The desire on her face is palpable.
“You’re dangerous,” she admits. “I feel like you could ask me to do anything, and I couldn’t say no.”
The thought of her bending to my every will makes me chuckle, but as I look at her, my laughter fades, replaced by something darker, more intense.
Her desire is unmistakable. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, and her eyes lock onto mine, filled with longing.
The need to control her surges within me.
She catches herself, suddenly aware of how exposed she is. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice almost bashful. “I’m a little close to my heat now, so I’m a bit vulnerable.”
Her heat? Now I’m excited.
“Don’t apologize,” I reply, my voice flat and controlled. I lean in slightly. “Let me see your neck.”
The command hangs in the air. I watch her, waiting.
She bites her lower lip, a flicker of excitement passing over her face as she processes my command. Slowly, almost teasingly, she tilts her head to one side, exposing the soft curve of her neck. The way she yields to my instructions sends a surge of anticipation through me.
“Show me your fingers,” I say.
Without hesitation, she raises her hand, displaying her slender fingers for me to see.
“I want you to put two of them in your mouth,” I instruct.
I watch her closely as she brings her index and middle fingers to her lips, parting them slowly to take the fingers in.
The motion is almost languid, as if she is savoring the moment.
Her eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that makes the air between us crackle with tension.
The way she obeys ignites something primal within me.
I can feel my wolf almost howling in lustful expectation.
“Now, touch yourself with them,” I command, my voice low.
Leila’s eyebrow arches at my words, a look of hesitation crossing her face. But I double down. “I want to watch you touch yourself,” I say again, this time with a firmer edge.
She pulls her fingers from her mouth, her teeth catching her lower lip as she contemplates my command. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she slips her hand beneath her dress. The sight of it sends my mind into overdrive.
She starts off slowly, her fingers moving in tentative strokes. But the look in her eyes tells me she’s as caught up in this as I am.
“Faster,” I demand, my voice thick with desire.
She quickens her pace, her breath catching as the intensity builds. Her face flushes, and the soft moans that escape her lips grow heavier and more urgent. I watch her, captivated, as she loses herself in the sensation, her vulnerability and submission fanning the flames of my own desire.
The once quiet air of the balcony is now filled with the sound of Leila’s ragged breaths and the wet, rhythmic noise of her fingers moving beneath her dress.
The sight of her, lost in the moment, makes me harden, causing an ache as my cock pushes against my dark jeans.
I rise from my seat, the space between us closing as I approach her, her hand still moving vigorously under her dress.
I stop just within arm’s reach. “Stop,” my voice cut through the heated tension.
She obeys instantly. Her hand falls still, and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. Her body trembles slightly, the need in her eyes more evident than ever.
“Take off your panties.”
She moves quickly, almost desperately, as if the weight of her own desires has become too much to bear. Her hands shiver as she slides her panties down her legs, discarding them.
“Now,” I murmur, my voice low and commanding, “lean on the rail.”
She complies, getting up from the chair and leaning her back on the balcony rail. Her breathing is still uneven and her body taut with expectation as she waits for what comes next.
I drop slowly to my knees, lifting her dress as I do, spreading her legs with a gentle touch. The sight of her, wet and ready, sends a surge of satisfaction through me, a smile curling at the corners of my lips. I love that I can drive her to this point.
I lean in, my lips brushing against the soft skin of her inner thighs, leaving a trail of teasing kisses as I move closer to her center. I feel her body quiver beneath my touch. She’s on the edge, and I’m in no rush to pull her back.
I bring my mouth closer, hovering just above her wet, pulsing core. I inhale deeply, savoring the intoxicating cinnamon scent of her arousal. Her hands reach down, fingers threading through my hair, trying to pull me closer. I can feel her urgency and her need.
I give her a light kiss, my lips barely grazing her, just enough to taste her. Her juices cling to my mouth, sweet and warm, and I savor the sensation before finally giving in. I open my mouth, letting my tongue explore her fully, taking in every part of her as she trembles over me.
I begin slowly, my lips gently closing around her clit as I lap at her. Her taste is intoxicating, and each flick of my tongue is met with a soft moan that spurs me on. But as she gets wetter, her moans growing louder, I lose myself to the moment.
I thrust my tongue deep into her, plunging as far as I can reach before pulling back, only to dive in again, faster, almost rabid. She matches my intensity, her hips grinding against my face, her movements growing frantic as she chases her release.
Her rhythm quickens, and I feel the tension coiling within her, ready to snap. For a brief moment, she falls silent, her breath caught in her throat, and then she screams, a sound so raw and powerful that it echoes through the night like a siren’s call.
She gushes, her body convulsing as she releases, and I am drenched, my face wet with her juices.
Her legs seem to give out beneath her, and she drops to her knees as I rise to my feet. She looks so beautiful this way, panting and flushed, her skin glowing with the aftermath of her release. Her hand reaches out, fingers slightly shaky as she gently grabs my jeans at the waist.
“Please, let me make you feel good too,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost pleading.
I remain silent, just taking in the sight of her, so vulnerable and exquisitely needy. Her beauty in this moment is overwhelming, a sight that imprints itself on my mind. Slowly, she unzips my jeans and pulls out my cock.
Her mouth wraps around me, the warmth of her lips and tongue sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
I instantly know that I won’t last long.
The way she looks up at me and the softness of her mouth are almost too much to bear.
She’s so achingly beautiful like this, and her willingness draws me in deeper.
As she moves, her rhythm steady and deliberate, I reach out and clasp her chin, lifting her face so that our eyes meet. The look in her eyes, the raw desire mingled with something deeper, stirs something powerful within me.
“Will you spend your heat with me?” I ask, my voice rough with the intensity of the moment.
Her gaze is wide and shimmering with emotion, her lips still moving over me.
“Say yes,” I command.
“Yes,” she breathes, her hand stroking me with a rhythm that drives me to the edge.