Conall
It starts with books. Layla, as it turns out, has been giving Ivy werewolf smut. Very subtle.
And the book she chose for me turns out to be an epic romance.
Apparently, Layla thinks I need tips on how to woo a woman. Well I've got news for her. I've wooed women before. I know how it's done. Of course, those were easy trysts and not my one true mate who I might spend the rest of my life with, but still.
We're reading on the couch. I look over my book and find Ivy’s eyes closed, book tipped over on her chest. My breath catches at the sight.
She trusted me enough for this. To fall asleep with only me in the room, knowing I'd never let anything happen to her. Forced to sleep together for appearances and sleeping because you know you’re protected and cared for are two very different things.
I gently set my book aside and move, as quietly as I've ever managed, to her side. Carefully, I take the book from her hands and set it with mine.
Simply because I'm not in my faehound form doesn't mean I don't retain many of its traits, from the green patches on my skin to the claws to the pointed ears to the tail. But I also retain things that can't be seen, like the strength.
One arm slides under her knees while the other goes under her shoulders.
She makes a small noise in her throat before settling against my chest. Her body is solid and warm against me.
Her hair tumbles over my arm in a cascade of short curls.
I make my way carefully up the stairs and to her side of the bed to set her down gently.
Her eyes flutter open and find mine immediately.
"Stay," she says sleepily.
I smile. "Of course. I've been staying, remember? Every night."
She shakes her head, sleep clearing. "No, stay. With me. Because you want to. Not because of Randy's magic or a protection spell or a mating bond. Stay."
Fuck my soul. This woman has no idea. I pull up the comforter and slide in beside her.
"When we first had to share a bed, that might have been true,” I tell her, “but it hasn't been true for a while, Freckles."
She turns toward me, wide brown eyes tracing over my face, hair fanned out over the pillow. The pull of the mating bond is strong, but the yearning for her—her humor, her resilience, her everything—is stronger.
She leans over and her lips find mine, soft and warm. My hand finds her throat, fingers curling to the back of her neck, thumb stroking over her wildly pattering heartbeat.
She deepens the kiss, opening her mouth so I can lick inside with slow, dirty strokes that match exactly what I want to do to her. What I've been dying to do since my hound licked her boneless.
She grabs my shoulders, fisting the back of my shirt and urging me closer.
I let my weight sink onto her, pressing my hard cock against her thigh so she can feel how much I need her.
My mouth leaves hers and trails down her jaw to her throat, kissing and licking that fast fluttering pulse.
She arches up, grinding her hips against me, chasing friction.
I pull back, breathing hard. "You were just falling asleep, Ivy."
Her eyes lock on mine, dark and hungry. "I'm awake now."
Fuck. She tugs at the bottom of my shirt and I rip it off.
Her fingers slide over my stomach and I groan, low and desperate.
My hips twitch toward her touch. She pops the button on my pants then slowly drags the zipper down.
The sound of metal teeth separating fills the quiet room.
I shove them down and kick them off. My cock hangs heavy between us.
Her eyes go wide, lips parting as she stares.
She's still wearing her dress. My hands glide up her thighs, watching every little reaction.
I settle my shoulders between her legs, spreading her open beneath me.
Her panties are soaked through. I can smell how wet she is.
Instead of taking them off, I press my mouth right over the damp fabric, licking and kissing her through it. She tastes like pure sex and mine.
Ivy gasps and bucks hard. "Conall, please," she whimpers.
"Please what, Freckles?" I flick my tongue against her clit through the cloth. When she doesn't answer I hook the fabric aside, exposing her slick, swollen folds. "Is all this for me, little mate?"
"Yes!" she cries as I seal my mouth over her clit and suck, tongue swirling fast. "Please."
I pull back just enough to look at her face. Her chest heaves, cheeks flushed. She already looks completely undone and we've barely started.
"Please what, Freckles?" I growl.
Her eyes meet mine, steady and desperate. "Please fuck me, Conall." The way she says it, clear and hungry, shoots straight to my cock.
My claw slices through the sides of her panties in two quick flicks. They fall apart on the bed. I wrap my hand around my cock and drag the head through her wet folds, teasing her clit then circling her entrance. She mewls, hips chasing me.
I crown her entrance and then push in slowly. She gasps, arching instantly. I press my hand flat on her stomach and kiss along her jaw.
"So sensitive for me, pretty mate."
Her breaths come fast and ragged. "Move," she demands, pushing herself up onto my cock, and I can't help but grin. My mate is fucking perfect.
I press down harder on her lower belly and thrust deep.
Then again, and again. Her nails dig into my forearms as she holds on.
When I finally sink all the way in I lose control.
Her tight heat grips me so well, I never want to stop.
I fuck her harder and she meets every thrust, rocking back into me.
I hook one arm under her leg and pull it over my shoulder, driving even deeper.
She throws her head back. "Ah!" she cries out. "God, Conall, I'm so—" Her words cut off as my strokes turn rougher, deeper, my balls slapping wetly against her ass with every thrust.
I pull the front of her dress down, baring her soft, round tits. My mouth closes over one peaked nipple, and I suck hard, tongue flicking just enough to make her cry out. I keep thrusting the whole time, thick cock parting her on every stroke.
Her walls squeeze around me like she’s trying to pull me deeper. I slide my hand between us and rub tight circles over her swollen clit. She pushes on my chest, and I instantly move for her, rolling us so I’m on my back and she’s straddling me, her dress splays around us and over my abdomen.
The new angle seats me even deeper. She moans, long and broken, as she swirls her hips, grinding my cock against every sensitive spot inside her. Rubbing her clit against my pubic bone.
“Freckles,” I growl, voice wrecked, “use my cock. Fuck that perfect little pussy all over me.”
She doesn’t hesitate. Bracing her hands on my chest, she lifts up on her knees until only the tip is in and sinks back down to the hilt in one slick glide. She’s so wet it’s obscene. The filthy sounds of her riding me fill the room as she starts to move faster, swirling and grinding, using me.
My hands grip her hips, helping her bounce in a perfect rhythm. Slow and deep at first, then faster, messier, until she’s rutting on my cock like she can’t get enough.
“Conall—” My name tears out of her like a warning.
“Come, mate,” I rasp, thumb pressing harder on her clit. “Squeeze my cock while you come.”
Her pussy clamps down in tight spasms, pulsing around my shaft as she comes hard, gushing all over my cock and balls.
The feeling rips through me. I thrust up into her three desperate times, chasing it, before I slam deep and hold her down on me.
Thick, hot spurts of cum flood her cunt as I groan her name, pumping every drop into my mate until it’s leaking out around my cock.
My forehead finds hers as our breaths saw in and out. My mate. My everything.