Chapter 11 - Annika #2
Perhaps it’s the softness of his tone, or the sweetness of his words of conviction, that really undoes me in a way that allows me to see that Heinrich isn’t the brute I thought he was all these years.
Something shifts inside me, and where there was deep resentment before, there’s only a space left for him to fill.
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me,” I admit in a whisper, feeling that uncontrollable fire buried deep inside me stirring, threatening to bring chaos to my emotions again, and I can’t lose myself the way I just did. “Please,” I whisper. “Just k-kiss me again.”
It must be the crack in my voice that does it, because this time, Heinrich doesn’t hesitate, and he kisses me fiercely, fire on his tongue as he dips it into the cavity of my mouth and explores like a caveman, grabbing me closer and lifting me off my feet.
We’re moving, until he perches me on the bathroom counter, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist. His lips leave mine for me to catch my breath while he peppers my neck with open-mouthed kisses, traveling to my collarbones while he hooks a hand under the strap of my nightgown.
He pauses, looking up at me seductively through dark brown lashes, eyes dark and heady with hunger and desire.
“Tell me to stop…” he murmurs, tugging on the strap to indicate what he means, but I shake my head slowly.
“Don’t stop,” I return, and that’s when his eyes flit to my shoulder as he watches the way he pulls the strap down my arm. My breast becomes exposed, nipple begging for attention with how plump and erect it is.
Heinrich listens to its silent plea, dipping his head and latching his lips on the perky mound, the sensation of his tongue flicking at the nipple with precision prompting me to throw my head back and moan, hand carding through his curls.
“Oh, God…” I mewl, legs spreading further like a desperate plea for him to touch me. I don’t have to say another word before his hand slithers up my inner thigh, fingertips brushing lightly against my clothed core.
I gasp from the way an electric spark of awareness rushes through me from the slightest touch, and my eyes meet his as he lifts his head.
“This won’t do…” he purrs, and next thing, I’m being picked up from the counter and carried down the hall.
He stops at his bedroom, carrying me as if I’m as light as a feather, as if he didn’t just have the worst injury to his arm.
He kicks the door in, finding my lips for a kiss that works to distract me as he turns and presses me up against the wall.
My feet touch the ground as he steps back, raking his gaze over my face, across my exposed breast, and he reaches up to cup the mound while he works to remove the other strap.
With both breasts exposed now, the silk nightdress whispers off my body and pools at my ankles, and my breath feels unsteady as I inhale through my lips, body heating with awareness.
“You really are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Annika,” he praises, gently kneading my breasts with the apples of his palms, our faces a mere inch apart.
The scent of Sauvage and masculinity is intoxicatingly strong, inebriating my senses and sending arousal dripping from between my thighs and into the crotch of my panties.
Threading my fingers through his curls when he dips his head at the valley of my breasts, I throw my head back, basking in the pleasure of the open-mouthed kisses he adorns on my skin, sucking in breaths, groaning as if he’s savoring the taste of my flesh.
I’m whisked off my feet with a swift motion, and he carries me to his bed, where I’m laid down so gently that my heart skips another beat.
He pulls back, towering over me as he pulls his T-shirt over his head before returning his eyes to me.
It’s like he’s drunk just from staring, eyes glowing with a dark fierceness that has more arousal seeping into my panties, forcing me to press my thighs tightly together in an attempt to stay sane enough to keep my focus on what he’s doing.
But even as he unties the drawstrings of his sweatpants, all I can do is stare at his sculpted chest, my eyes tracing every contour of muscle, every line and dip of his chiseled physique that has me practically drooling with the thought of tracing my palms over his muscles and feeling him beneath my fingers.
He takes his sweet time, it seems, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of his pants, then drawing them down over his powerful thighs, exposing only the prominent bulge that pulls his tight underwear taut.
I bite my bottom lip in anticipation, so much left to the imagination when he drops to his knees in front of me, prying my thighs apart as he presses his lips to the inside of one knee.
My body shudders in response to the sensations shooting through my veins like fire, igniting my body in places that I never thought could come alive from a man’s touch.
It’s a simple reminder that Heinrich Rudolph isn’t an ordinary man, but a werewolf.
Even when I thought he was just Henry Ralph, my rampant thoughts and wild imagination couldn’t come close to the feeling of his lips traveling across my thigh, exposing me to new sensations of pleasure even when he hadn’t laid a finger on my core.
My body shakes with the heat of my wanton desire as Heinrich peppers my inner thigh with kisses until he reaches my clothed core. He presses his nose there, breathing in deeply as if he’s drinking in the scent of my arousal.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin, a knot forming in the pit of my belly when he slinks a finger through the crotch of my panties, his knuckle smoothing over my drenched folds.
I shudder from the touch, and he uses the movement of my body to skillfully peel my panties out from under me.
He draws them all the way off, then returns to kissing my inner thigh, this time, his lips meeting my seeping folds.
“Oh, fuck…!” I moan as his lips latch onto my bundle of nerves, his tongue swiveling and doing immaculate tricks on my clit, the insane amount of pleasure driving me wild as I writhe and rock against his mouth.
When he adds a finger to his ministrations, dipping the digit through my aching walls, I feel my body tumbling toward the pinnacle of my existence.
I throw my head back as he pumps his finger inside me, crying out from ecstatic pleasure as he keeps working my clit with his lips and tongue and thrusts his finger with precision that soon has me seeing stars behind my eyelids.
I fist the sheets, trying to hang on to a semblance of reality when this feels too good to be true, and I explode, body shuddering from the impact of the most delicious orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
He drags his lips from my swollen and sensitized bundle of nerves with a deliberate “pop” that indicates he’s not done, the lewd sound drawing my attention back to his face, where he watches me intently, studying every quiver of my bottom lip, every heartbeat, it seems, as he climbs over my body.
My hands are on his bulging biceps as he settles between my thighs, eyes shimmering with the darkest hunger as he stares into mine, and he presses his rigid erection against my drenched folds.
“Henry…” I moan, his name falling from my lips like a desperate prayer. “Please…I want to feel you inside me…”
He strokes the back of his hand across one side of my face, brushing hairs caught against my cheek with sweat, then slides that hand down the side of my body, catching the back of my knee and drawing my leg over his waist as he simultaneously drops to his side.
We’re lying face to face on the pillow, and I reach down and slip my hand into his underwear, relishing the velvety feel of his cock beneath my fingers.
He moans…actually moans when I have him in my hands, eyes glittering with an appreciation that swells my chest.
“You are gorgeous, Annika…” he whispers, brows furrowing gently as if he’s studying my face a little harder, etching every intricate detail with his mind and committing it to memory.
Watching him respond to the way I’m stroking his cock feels powerful, but my aching walls betray the control I’m trying to maintain.
“Please, Henry…I need you inside me…”
I gulp hard as he catches my wrist, gently removing my hand from his cock before he slides off his underwear. My leg remains hitched over his waist, and he pulls me closer with a hand on the small of my back.
He rocks his hips steadily, stroking my folds with the length of his cock, gliding and gathering all my slick on the shaft. He reaches between us, takes his erection in his hand, and presses the tip to my aching hole.
I hold my breath as I wait with anticipation, staring between our bodies and watching the moment the bulbous tip enters me.
Languidly, he pushes more of his length inside me, stretching my walls out deliciously as he cups my face.
He meets my lips for a slow, unhurried kiss as he buries all of himself inside me, and he drinks the little moans and whimpers I make as I’m acquainted with him, stretching out my walls.
Once deep inside, our kisses turn more passionate, more feverish, his thrusts becoming powerful as he pulls me onto him. I’m straddling him, tongue still twisted with his, his hands on my waist as he guides me into a steady rhythm on his cock.
I can hardly make out where I end or begin, our bodies moving in sync as he thrusts up into me, meeting my rocking motion with powerful precision and angled in a way that has his cock hitting my G-spot every single time.
I can hardly breathe on my own, needing his kisses to keep me alive, it seems, and soon, I feel that familiar knot coiling once again, begging for release.
The last stretch is when he throws me onto my back and pounds into me with immaculate speed, our breaths and moans mingling until we both reach orgasm.
He slides his arms under my back, keeping me flush to his chest as he spills hot ropes of cum deep inside my convulsing, overflowing walls as I orgasm.
His weight presses me to the bed as he lies on me, holding me fiercely tight as he breathes roughly at the crook of my neck, breath heavy and unsteady as we climb down from our high.
But as the rolling waves of my orgasm crawl further and further away, I’m left with a sinking, nauseating feeling in my heart that feels like a black hole, a dark void that threatens to pull me down.
Despite how mind-blowing that passionate tryst was, how extremely satisfying it was to feel him all over me and inside me, as he pulls out his cock and draws me into his side, all I can seem to think about is this empty feeling creeping in my chest.
Heinrich Rudolph never brought me here because he really wants me. I am simply a means to an end. He needs me here because he’s convinced I’m the one who can help him and his werewolf pack.
He never wanted me. Not as Henry Ralph. Not as Heinrich Rudolph.
And a wave of sadness washes over me before it leaves me on a very dark and desolate island, where not even his arms secured around my bare body could ever bring me the real comfort I need.
To feel used is a new kind of pain, and all I can do is fill this emptiness with the hatred I once had for him. It’s the only thing stronger than pain, the only thing that will get me through this without breaking apart.