Chapter 11
Willow
We stumbled into my tiny bedroom in a tangle of hands and mouths, practically knocking over the small dressing table in our haste.
As we collapsed onto the bed, Wyatt’s body pressed me into the mattress.
I couldn’t believe we were really doing this.
Finally! After years of “will we, won’t we,” Wyatt had me pinned to the bedsheets like he was just as desperate for me as I was for him.
His hands roamed my curves, exploring every inch like he wanted to commit them to memory. Lifting up the hem of my shirt, he whispered against my lips, “You’re so perfect, Willow. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Nailed it. Maybe this mate thing meant I could read his thoughts.
The fabric passed over my head and was then tossed into the abyss because there was nothing beyond this bed.
There was only us.
It was my turn to pull at his clothing because I’d also been waiting for too long to get him naked. I was aching with need, my fingers threading through his hair and tracing down his back, desperate to explore every inch of his body.
He shuffled off the edge of the bed, removing everything but his briefs.
I pulled off my sleep shorts and made easy work of my bra and panties with an eagerness that had both of us grinning.
Laid bare for him, I took a moment to admire his body.
He was lean but muscular from lugging sacks of flour and sugar, kneading dough, and whatever else kept a baker werewolf looking like a snack.
Before he let his briefs hit the floor, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a condom.
He couldn’t have gotten any hotter in that moment.
Everything this man did was to protect me, even when I was too horny to think straight.
He slicked the slippery prophylactic down his shaft and gave himself a testing stroke, making his jaw slack with anticipation.
I reached out for him, guiding him back to the bed.
“I need you now,” I whined, opening my legs farther for him to kneel between them.
He lowered his body over mine, but hovered to kiss and touch his way down my neck, chest, then belly. Every bit of skin his lips brushed caught fire.
How had we gone this long without doing this? We should’ve been doing this every hour of every day since the moment our eyes had locked. All concerns about ruining our friendship or business relationship or whatever seemed like trivial foreplay now.
My breathing was ragged, and my chest was heaving.
Never in my life had I been as turned on as when he lifted my leg and placed three hot kisses on my sensitive inner thigh.
When his eyes met mine, the magnetic hunger there caught my breath.
It had been so long since anyone had looked at me with half that intensity, and it made my clit pulse.
With his eyes still locked on mine, he settled between my legs, spread me open, and indulged in a long, languid stroke of his tongue, sending a shiver up my spine.
I cursed, but he only smiled.
That beautiful face I’d dreamed about in this exact position for so long was now torturing me. I lifted my hips just as he let out a satisfied hum. His tongue flicked, lapped, and swirled until I was panting. I squirmed in his hold, begging for more friction, more movement, more of him.
“I need . . .” My words died on a moan as Wyatt brought two fingers to my entrance.
“I know,” he rasped, pressing inside to drive me even crazier.
He worked his mouth over me while his fingers found that perfect spot, stroking in rhythm until I was gripping my sheets and moaning his name. “I’m so . . . close . . . Wyatt! Please, oh god . . .”
“I know you need more. But I need this first.” He sounded just as wound up as I was. “Come for me, Willow.”
As if on command, my body shattered, muscles constricting and convulsing in pure euphoria. His hand stilled, allowing me to coast through the pleasure until I was boneless. I was embarrassed to admit that it had been a long dry spell, and not even my favorite vibrator had given me such an orgasm.
Would it always be this good? Could it possibly get even better?
But when Wyatt moved between my thighs until my knees hung from his hips, I knew for certain that yes, it fucking could.
He scooped my waist up with one arm and braced himself on the mattress with the other. And when his cock slid up my wet center, we both dropped our gazes between us, our foreheads pressed together.
This was it. The point of no return.
I looked up into his eyes, silently giving him permission to ruin any shred of normal, just friends we had left.
But there was hesitation.
I lifted my hips again, hoping to encourage him, but he didn’t budge.
“If I get lost in the moment . . . you need to tell me if it’s too much.” He paused, letting that statement sink in. “I never want to hurt you, Willow. Ever.”
“I know,” I assured him, still breathless and aching. “You won’t. I can handle anything, remember?”
He hissed as I lifted my hips until the tip of his cock inched inside of me. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
And then he sank into me. The air in my lungs whooshed out as I adjusted to his thickness.
He drew his hips back before thrusting in deeper, and his arm banded around my lower back, holding me steady.
“Oh god, I’m going to come again,” I rasped. My legs squeezed around his waist, the need to keep him deep inside of me taking over.
“Not yet,” he answered, rocking his hips and unlocking a new level of pleasure within me. “Just a little bit longer, baby.”
My belly tightened. I didn’t think I could wait another second, but hearing him grit out that command made me want to listen for once.
“I can’t . . . I need . . . ,” I begged, digging my nails into his shoulders.
“You need me, mate.”
Something in those words felt like a dam breaking.
“Yes,” I whined. “My mate.”
A guttural sound rumbled from his chest, and I knew then what I’d done. He held my hips in place, bottoming out and fucking me with abandon. The flood of pleasure overtook me, and I saw stars.
I felt his own peak mounting, his thick cock somehow filling me fuller and fuller. His husky voice rattled my name as he came, his body stilling and shuddering with his release.
Our bodies collapsed all at once, his slick skin against mine as we panted in unison.
It was the most intense pleasure I’d ever experienced, and with his mop of wavy hair on my bare chest, I couldn’t have been any more content. I fingered a long curl, enjoying the afterglow for a moment.
“That was . . . wow.” He propped his chin on my chest. “Are you okay?”
I giggled. “I’m fine. You worry too much.” I shifted but realized he was still inside of me. And he was still hard.
More than hard, he was . . . stuck.
“What’s—”
“Don’t panic.” He shifted but winced. “Don’t move just yet.”
“That is really not the sort of thing you want someone to say when they’re inside you.” I grimaced, but not because it hurt. Quite the opposite. The need to have him again was already mounting. “What exactly is happening?”
I circled my hips, feeling the swell of him and a pulsating that coaxed me back in a needy undertow.
“I didn’t think it would happen while I still had the sigil.” He tested his hips, sending a wave of pleasure through us. “It’s a werewolf thing.”
He grunted, pushing farther then trying to ease out of me to no avail.
Whatever it was, it felt so damn good. This feeling of having him inside of me, swelling, filling me to the point of becoming one, felt so right.
I tilted his chin for his lips to capture mine, showing him that I wasn’t scared or bothered.
“Slow. Okay?” He shifted our bodies until I was sitting on top of him. The new angle made him hit me deeper than before. “Goddess moon. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He cupped my breasts as I ground my hips over his. He pinched my nipples between his fingers, and I rode him, slowly and deliberately. His mouth fell open as I watched his features change before my eyes. One moment, his face was lax, and in the next, he was ravenous.
I picked up my pace, chasing my own release now.
“Willow. You’re going to make me—oh gods.” He arched his back, taking my hips in his hands, and thrust up into me, hard and fast. “Come for me. Please. Again. I need you to come.”
And I did.
Harder than before.
My entire body went rigid as the wreck of pleasure ravaged my senses, his thickness throbbing in tandem with my orgasm. I collapsed onto his chest, and his arms banded around my back, holding me still as he finished once again.
We stayed like that for a long minute, touching and kissing. I realized my body and my hormones were at war because I was starting to feel sore between my legs but couldn’t bring myself to ease off. And he was still erect.
“Is this part of the mating bond? An insatiable sexual need?” I tried to lift myself off him but was struck with a more serious realization: he really was stuck inside of me.
A brief flash of trying to explain this in the ER had my cheeks burning. Even if I had a paranormal doctor, this was something the town would never get over.
My thoughts began to spiral. Did humans and werewolves have incompatible parts or something?
“This has never happened to me before. I just need a minute,” Wyatt said, strained. “Just . . . don’t move.”
Panic was starting to sink in. “Will I hurt you if I do?”
“No, but unless you want me to rut into you for the next six hours, you need to stay still for a little bit.”
A furious blush burned across my cheeks and down my neck.
Getting dicked down to the point of utter exhaustion didn’t sound like the worst way to spend the rest of the night.
But I had to work in the morning, and so did he, which meant we both needed to be able to stand.
Not to mention, the whole point of a condom was one use, and we’d already stretched that risk. I wasn’t ready for werewolf babies.
“I won’t move,” I promised, cursing myself for not asking Harlow to open the café in the morning.
Several minutes passed before the tension eased enough for him to lift me off him. I lay on my side and watched his cute, tight butt walk across my room to dispose of the condom before returning to my bed.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling me into his chest. “I didn’t hurt you?”
I shook my head against his warm skin. “I’m fine. Better than fine. But what just happened? What was that?”
His cheeks reddened. “It something that happens to male wolf anatomy when we’re with our mates. It’s a breeding thing.”
I eyed him. “Umm, what?”
“Have you, uh, ever heard of . . . knotting?”
I blinked at him but didn’t answer. I knew what knotting was from romance books. I hadn’t put two and two together because Wyatt was just Wyatt to me, not a werewolf with wolf anatomy.
“My . . . shaft . . .” He blushed again, and this time, I giggled at the impromptu paranormal creature physiology lesson that was unfolding. “Well, it swells to lock us together in a heat frenzy. It’s harder to control when you’re ovulating . . . My inner wolf can tell that my mate is wanting.”
It was my turn to blush. I wasn’t attuned to my cycle like that.
My period came when it came, and the only differences it had made over the last four years were in my mood and energy.
I hadn’t had any other trysts since moving to Maple Hollow.
When the next alpha had the hots for you, there weren’t many other prospects sniffing around.
Aside from Randy, the pumpkin-headed monster and town Casanova, no one in town had so much as acknowledged that I could be a prospective sexual partner.
I swept my fingers across Wyatt’s cheek. “So you weren’t kidding. You really could have kept going all night?”
“And into the morning. And probably the afternoon, if you wanted me to,” he clarified with a grin. “My body would do anything to not only be inside of you, but to satiate you fully. In every way you wanted me.”
“Oh,” was all I could say.
“It shouldn’t happen every time. We’ll be more careful,” he assured me.
But the endorphins flooding my brain didn’t want to be careful. He made it sound like his body was cosmically designed to want to pleasure mine. That was doing nothing to quell my rising libido.
Still, logic finally won out. It was only nine p.m., but I had to get up in a few hours, and I knew I needed to kick him out if I was going to get any sleep. I put on my fuzzy robe.
“We can talk more tomorrow.” I squeezed his bicep. “I’d ask you to stay, but I need to sleep.”
He drew me into a warm hug, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and my lungs filling with his scent. “I understand. The full moon is next week, and I’m struggling not to turn into a sex-crazed mate. I’m sorry. I know that’s intense.”
I hummed, and he planted a kiss on the top of my head. My body was perfectly exhausted and deliciously sore. “Don’t be sorry. I happen to like your kind of intense.”
He groaned. “Don’t tell me that.”
I giggled. “No, no. You’re right.” I pushed at his chest. “You have to go.”
He cupped my cheeks to kiss me gently. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I echoed, kissing him again, then once more before stepping back and watching him leave.
The nagging void in my chest opened immediately. I had to bite my lip to keep from calling him back to me.
This mate thing was going to be a problem.