Chapter 33
JULIET
The bike smoothly accelerates out of the parking lot, and before long, we’ve reached the edge of town. Pavement disappears under his tires, and the trees along the side of the road bleed together.
I lose my breath and love every second of it. Even though I can’t see his face, I get the sense Roderick is enjoying himself too. Maybe it’s a sixth sense, or maybe it’s the way his ab muscles tighten when I hug him harder.
Whatever the reason, his happiness amplifies mine.
After a time passes, the number of minutes lost on me, Roderick makes a U-turn, and we eventually cross back into town, finally coming to a stop in an alley just off Main Street. Roderick offers his hand to help with my balance as I dismount.
Not used to sitting astride for so long, I wobble, then shake out a few twinges in my leg muscles.
Roderick watches me with a smile twitching at the corners of his normally stern mouth, and then he tilts his chin toward the building on my left. “My apartment is upstairs.”
“Short commute,” I murmur, glancing over to the door that leads to Pine Falls Electric, just across the street.
He tucks my helmet back into the saddlebag, his other arm clutching the books he checked out. “Benefits of a small town.”
Can’t fault him there.
He leads me upstairs, and we step into a decent-sized place with wood floors and black leather furniture. Definitely a man’s apartment, but at least it’s a clean one. No dirty clothes strewn around or moldy dishes piled in the sink, and there’s a fresh piney scent in the air.
“Hungry?” Roderick asks, setting his load of books down on a sturdy coffee table. “I could order—”
I don’t let him get out any more words, my mouth taking ownership of his. Yes, I’m hungry. I’ve been ravenous since the instant I imagined this biker werewolf with his shaved head and stony face lounging in bed, reading.
Coming up with a more erotic image would be difficult.
When my tongue traces over Roderick’s lower lip, the wolf lets out a deep groan.
Strong arms hook around my waist, pulling me up until my feet leave the floor.
And as he holds me high, I revel in the sensation of his tongue teasing mine, the prickle of his shaved hair against my fingers, the strength of the chest I’m plastered against.
But soon, the almost-tame sensations are not enough. I need an eyeful of this man.
Breaking away, I wiggle my hips. “Put me down.”
There’s a disappointed grumbling deep in his throat that has me smiling, especially because the wolf follows my command. The moment my toes touch the floor, I shuck off his jacket, toss it on the couch, then grab his hand and drag him toward the bedroom.
Or at least, I thought this doorway would take us to the bed. Instead, I flip a switch and find myself in a bathroom with granite counters and a large mirror over the sink.
Change of plans.
The sight of my reflection, with Roderick hovering just over my shoulders, his brows dipping in confusion, gives me all kinds of inspiration.
We can try the bed another time.
With a grin, I pull him the rest of the way in, then shut the door.
“Wha—” His question is cut off the second I drop my cardigan and pull my shirt over my head.
Luckily, I chose to wear one of my nicer bras today—a blue cotton number with white lace on the edges.
Roderick seems to appreciate the lingerie with how his eyes stay locked on my boobs.
As I lean over the counter under the pretext of fixing my hair, the glass reflects the rise and fall of my now-flushed chest.
Will he take the hint?
When Roderick steps up behind me, hips and hardness pressing against my ass, I think he knows what I want.
“Here?” The question growls out low as black flickers across his gaze.
I gasp in a quick breath, but don’t flinch. There’s little fear can do in the face of my lust.
A second after I nod, the werewolf tears off his shirt. Large, rough hands slide from my back to my belly, then tease under the waistband of my jeans.
Did I just purr?
Probably.
Roderick drops hot, open-mouthed kisses to my shoulder as his fingers play with the button of my jeans.
“You sure?” he mutters against my skin, and even through the lusty fog in my brain, I can understand his hesitance.
This is the first time Roderick will be inside me. I don’t need this time to be in his bed because I’m sure we’ll get there at some point.
Right now, I want to go with what the moment gives us, and my misdirected feet led us to this bathroom, where all sorts of deliciously fun things can occur.
Exhibit A: mirror.
No reason to relocate as far as I’m concerned.
“I brought a condom,” is my answer to his question, and I slip the foil packet from my back pocket and slap it on the counter. The contraceptive used to be in a box in my purse, but when I was leaving work, I decided to keep one close to me.
The werewolf’s body tenses, and then he unbuttons my pants, pushing them and my underwear down only as far as my knees. I’m wondering if he wants me to kick them off the rest of the way when a touch passes over my center.
Then all thoughts leave my head, replaced by a steady chant of, Yes, yes, yes …
The kiss got me excited, brought about a dampness in my panties. But when Roderick navigates to my clit, I truly get wet. Like did-I-just-jump-in-a-lake wet.
“Gods, yes.” I try to spread my legs wide, but my half-discarded clothes keep my knees pinned. The restriction is half frustration, half excitement.
Did he mean to keep me bound like this?
My hips rock against the counter, and I start to feel empty.
“I need you.” My words are desperate.
“Soon,” he murmurs, refusing to meet my eyes in the mirror. Instead, Roderick’s stare is pointed down, locked on his hand and where it plays with my body’s pleasure.
A whimper sneaks out of my throat as I press back against his touch, wanting more.
Then Roderick drops to his knees, and I only have time to gasp before his tongue takes the place of his fingers.
I’ve never been a religious woman, but suddenly, I find myself praying.
That is, until I can’t speak anymore. There comes a point in time when my whole world is Roderick’s hot breath on my core. That world soon explodes when my orgasm hits. A werewolf asteroid of ecstasy laid waste to Planet Earth.
My knees give out, but a strong grip on my waist keeps me standing. When I finally blink the blurriness from my eyes, I glance at the mirror and spy Roderick standing behind me, supporting me. Watching me.
His eyes are black. For the first time in years, the sight is erotic to me.
Without breaking his stare, he picks up the condom.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Now.” That second was more like a growl and carries the silent agreement we have.
I’m the alpha.
In response, Roderick grunts an animalistic noise.
Briefly, he lets me go, and I discover my knees can hold me as long as I lock them in place and brace my hands on the counter.
Watching Roderick strip off his clothes and then slide on the condom has me feeling like a voyeur.
Suited up, he steps back up behind me. With callous fingers brushing over my now-sensitive skin, the werewolf finishes divesting me of my bra, my jeans, and the matching underwear I’m glad I put on this morning. A chill teases over me, and I fail at suppressing a shiver.
Not that I need to worry about being cold when his hot body returns almost immediately. Roderick’s hands find my waist, his grip firm, the heated touch pressing against me until I swear his fingers will melt into my bones.
Then his touch shifts. One wide palm spreads over my stomach, another mirroring the move on my back. He’s holding me in place, positioning me for—
“Oh gods,” I moan, my lids fluttering, almost losing sight of him.
Roderick’s erection slips along my folds, painting itself with my wetness, all in preparation for when he pushes inside. The entry is slow, measured, and has me choking on a gasp.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice low, soothing, and with just a hint of strain on the last syllable.
Good to know I’m not the only one losing my mind.
When he’s seated deep, Roderick stays there.
Focusing on the mirror, I watch his broad chest expand and contract with deep breaths, his exhales so forceful that I feel the brush of air against my back.
“How are you?” he asks, like I just stumbled into him on the street rather than have his cock so deep in me that I can feel his thighs against my ass.
“Oh, you know, horny as hell,” I say back with the cheeriest tone I can manage when all I want to do is beg.
Roderick chuckles, the rumble radiating into me through the place we’re joined.
Has there ever been a more delicious sensation?
But then he rolls his hips, and my eyes roll back.
It’s like a wave is going through the werewolf’s body, bringing different dimensions and angles to the way he thrusts inside me.
This isn’t some frantic piston slamming into my cervix until I’m wincing in discomfort.
This is a sensual approach that makes every bit of my insides feel acknowledged and worshipped.
In summary, Roderick is amazing at wielding his dick.
If the bathroom counter were anything other than granite, I’m sure my fingers would be leaving indentations.
“So good,” I whimper, almost petulant about the fact that I’ve had to deal with what can only be described as mediocre sex up until this point in my life.
Why don’t more men know how to do this? Why did I have to get subpar attempts for so many years?
So unfair.
But now, at least, my vagina is being treated right.
Meeting Roderick’s half-lidded eyes in the mirror, I can’t help but say, “Thank you.”
His brow twists in confusion, and then he leans his torso forward until his chest covers my back just as well as his leather jacket did earlier.
“You trust me enough to have you this way.” His words come out on a hot breath, burning my ear as he continues to meet my eyes in the mirror. “Thank you.” Another deep roll to emphasize his point leaves me panting.
“I want to come again,” I whimper. “So bad.”
There’s a teasing note in his voice. “Greedy woman.”
“Yes,” I moan. “I am. Give it to me.” Reaching back, I dig my nails into one of the firm globes of his ass.
Roderick growls, gently biting my neck. Then his hands cup my breasts, rough thumbs dragging back and forth over my nipples.
Every sensation is glorious and has me gasping his name as the earlier orgasm helps topple me into a second one now with the indirect touches.
Roderick grunts when I pulse around him. His thrusts turn disjointed with a frantic edge that only prolongs my pleasure. Then he shouts a string of curses as his arms go iron tight around me and his cock stays buried deep in my pussy, spilling his release.
I love the way his ragged breaths muss my hair and the sweat on his skin mixes a salty note in with his normal spicy body-wash scent.
He mumbles a word, but over my own panting, I miss it.
“What was that?” I ask as I tease my nails along his forearm. The limb is still locked around my midriff, but I don’t mind. The dark hairs on his arm rise in the wake of my touch, making me smile.
“Perfection,” Roderick says, then burrows his head under my messy hair so he can kiss my neck.
A giggle breaks free at the treatment. The light laughter earns me his gaze in the mirror, along with a wide, wicked grin.
Yes, I think to myself. This is a werewolf I want to keep.
For now at least.