Chapter 36 #2
She finishes her noodles in record time, then hums softly as she sets the carton aside, stretching her arms overhead. Her shirt rides up, exposing a flash of tan skin and ink. My wolf perks up instantly, claws flexing, attention locked in.
Mine.
She drops her arms, a slow, dirty grin curving her mouth. “See something you like, Commander?” she teases.
The way I’m looking at her must say enough, because she plucks my takeout container right out of my hands, setting it aside before swinging a leg over to straddle my lap. My hands come to her hips automatically, her thighs bracketing mine.
“What are you up to?” I ask, even though we both know where this is headed.
She walks her fingers up my chest. “I wanted to properly thank you,” she murmurs, all false innocence. “You know… for not getting me a job that I’m absolutely going to take.”
I lift a brow, waiting to see just how far she’ll take this.
Violet leans in and crushes her lips to mine. I surge into the kiss, tasting the whiskey on her lips and the faintest trace of sriracha on her tongue. I’d let this woman eat me alive if she wanted.
She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips dragging along my jaw, her breath warm against my skin. “Still haven’t decided whether I wanna slap you or kiss you right now.”
“Why not both?” I growl, restraint thinning fast.
She laughs, then does exactly that– a quick, playful smack to my cheek, followed immediately by another kiss. This one’s deeper and more demanding, her hands fisting in my shirt to drag me closer.
I’m the one to break it this time, grabbing her wrists and pinning them behind her back, her tits arching into me. “What’s gotten into you, mate?”
She bites her lip, gaze flicking down to where my cock’s straining against the front of my slacks. “Just feeling grateful, I guess.”
“Is that so?”
She nods, then slides off my lap to the floor, kneeling between my legs in a way that instantly scrambles my brain. She gazes up at me through her lashes, her hair starting to come undone from the bun, a few dark strands falling into her face as she reaches for my belt.
“Violet–” I start, but she’s already got the buckle undone, my eyes rolling back as she palms me through my slacks.
“You can still eat your noodles, if you want,” she teases, popping the button and dragging the zipper down.
“Fuck the noodles,” I grit out, not even pretending to care about anything but her at this point.
She frees my cock, stroking it lazily, fingernails scratching lightly over the head.
Then she leans in, dragging her tongue along my shaft– teasing at first, then more deliberate.
I groan when she finally wraps her lips around the head and sucks, her blue eyes never leaving mine as she hollows her cheeks.
The sight of her like this– kneeling at my feet, so eager, so completely in control and yet somehow offering herself up– is almost enough to finish me on the spot.
I sink a hand into her hair to anchor myself while she works her mouth up and down my cock, slurping and sucking and driving me fucking crazy.
She moans around me, sending a jolt of electricity straight up my spine, and I try to last– I really do– but she’s too fucking good at this. Too talented with her tongue, too intent on ruining me.
When I’m right on the edge, I warn her, but she doesn’t stop. She just keeps right on going, greedily swallowing my cock as I freefall into climax. The dam inside me bursts, a groan rumbling in my chest as I spill into her mouth, waves of pleasure rippling through my body.
Slowly, I come back into myself, blinking as I peer down at my perfect fucking mate. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking in satisfaction as she crawls up into my lap.
“You okay, old man?” she teases, lips shiny.
I sling an arm around her waist and haul her in for a kiss. She whimpers into my mouth, grinding down against my thigh.
I know what she needs.
“Your turn,” I growl as I break the kiss, flipping her onto her back on the couch.
We both go for her shorts at the same time, laughing and cursing as we get tangled up in each other.
I wind up resorting to ripping them off, her thighs wrapping around me like a promise I have no intention of breaking.
When I slide my fingers between her legs, she’s already soaked, moaning loudly as I circle her clit.
“You want the neighbors to hear you?” I murmur, pushing two fingers inside her and curling them just so.
She gasps, arching off the couch, nails digging into my back. “Don’t care,” she pants. “Let them hear.”
I fuck her with my fingers until she’s shaking, then drag my mouth down her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach, licking and biting at her thighs until she’s pleading for more.
When I finally taste her, she grabs my hair with both hands and shoves my face against her pussy, grinding up into my mouth with zero shame.
She’s so worked up that it doesn’t take long– in a matter of minutes, she’s coming all over my tongue.
I lap it up like a starving man, refusing to stop until she’s begging through sobs.
When I move back up to kiss her again, she’s flushed and trembling, eyes half-lidded and satisfied. I roll her on top of me, and we lie there like that for a long time. The TV flickers, the food goes cold. Time slips.
And if this is what our version of domesticity looks like, I’ll gladly take it.