away from her just long enough to rid himself of his clothes, tossing them away and falling on hers. He shredded the fabric with fingers whose tips had sharpened into claws, and scattered them across the hall floor. When all of her skin lay bared to him, he crouched back on his heels and licked his lips.
Missy stared up at him, her eyes glassy and narrowed, her lips parted to make way for her panting breaths. “Graham. I want you,” she breathed, reaching up and twining her fingers in the silky-rough pelt of hair on his chest. She tugged, and he grunted at the sharp sting of pulled hair, but didn’t move.
She frowned up at him. “Now,” she said, her voice louder and firmer. “That wasn’t a generalization; it was an invitation. So get moving.” His beast leapt forward at that, clearly intent on fucking her senseless, knocking her up and then howling his triumph to the waxing moon. Fortunately, Graham grabbed it by the throat before it could pounce and wrestled it into temporary submission. If he frightened her now, he risked a lot more than sexual frustration. He risked a lifetime of misery, because an unhappy mate did not bode well for their relationship.
Christine Warren
Fur Factor
57
“Do I have to make it an order?” Her eyes narrowed when he failed to give her immediate penetration, and when he continued to hesitate, she slid her hand down the slowly spreading patch of hair on his chest, down his abdomen until her fingers curled around his cock and squeezed firmly.
He nearly did howl at that. Her soft fingers felt so cool and silky wrapped around his heated skin, and when he looked down, he became transfixed by the sight of her small, pale hand against his flushed shaft and the deep brown of the fur he couldn’t keep from spreading.
His jaw clenched so tightly, he thought it might snap. Desperately, he fought for control, fought to keep his beast pinned inside, no matter how fiercely it struggled for freedom. Graham knew that as surprisingly bold as his mate was turning out to be, she was still too human and too new to be faced with certain reminders of his Lupine nature. He figured he could pick a much better time to change in front of her for the first time than when she had her thighs spread and her hand wrapped around his cock.
Now was not the right moment.
When her other hand slipped from his chest to his thigh and then darted between to cup his balls, his beast made another lunge, and Graham had to resort to a full-body tackle and to making a certain number of compromises just to keep it in check. His beast agreed to stay beneath the surface of his skin if Graham agreed to give up the internal debate and fuck her. When her slick, clinging muscles wrapped around his cock, his beast would content itself with that and stop with the foaming at the mouth bit. It was a truce Graham could definitely get behind.
Before he could reach for her, Missy’s patience ran out. She dropped her hands, pushed herself up from the floor and glared straight into his eyes. “Did you break all those land speed records so you could admire my fine eyes, or could we get on with the more interesting stuff?”
His beast growled, and the smile he gave her felt feral. When his tongue darted out to lick his lips, it rubbed against the edge of his fangs, and he smiled wider.
“Interesting,” he growled. “Very interesting.” Then he lunged.
He dove for her like a wolf diving for the jugular of its prey. She jerked with the gracelessness of instinct and rolled away. He grinned and feigned a pounce, and she scrambled to her knees to eye him warily.
“What the heck are you doing?” she demanded.
“You said you liked men who get furry. I’m letting you see my furry side.” Her eyes widened, and he watched as her posture shifted from aggressive to wary. He sniffed, testing the air, but he couldn’t smell any of the bitter taint of fear marring her rich, sweet scent.
In fact , he thought, sniffing again, the
Missy stared up at him, her eyes glassy and narrowed, her lips parted to make way for her panting breaths. “Graham. I want you,” she breathed, reaching up and twining her fingers in the silky-rough pelt of hair on his chest. She tugged, and he grunted at the sharp sting of pulled hair, but didn’t move.
She frowned up at him. “Now,” she said, her voice louder and firmer. “That wasn’t a generalization; it was an invitation. So get moving.” His beast leapt forward at that, clearly intent on fucking her senseless, knocking her up and then howling his triumph to the waxing moon. Fortunately, Graham grabbed it by the throat before it could pounce and wrestled it into temporary submission. If he frightened her now, he risked a lot more than sexual frustration. He risked a lifetime of misery, because an unhappy mate did not bode well for their relationship.
Christine Warren
Fur Factor
57
“Do I have to make it an order?” Her eyes narrowed when he failed to give her immediate penetration, and when he continued to hesitate, she slid her hand down the slowly spreading patch of hair on his chest, down his abdomen until her fingers curled around his cock and squeezed firmly.
He nearly did howl at that. Her soft fingers felt so cool and silky wrapped around his heated skin, and when he looked down, he became transfixed by the sight of her small, pale hand against his flushed shaft and the deep brown of the fur he couldn’t keep from spreading.
His jaw clenched so tightly, he thought it might snap. Desperately, he fought for control, fought to keep his beast pinned inside, no matter how fiercely it struggled for freedom. Graham knew that as surprisingly bold as his mate was turning out to be, she was still too human and too new to be faced with certain reminders of his Lupine nature. He figured he could pick a much better time to change in front of her for the first time than when she had her thighs spread and her hand wrapped around his cock.
Now was not the right moment.
When her other hand slipped from his chest to his thigh and then darted between to cup his balls, his beast made another lunge, and Graham had to resort to a full-body tackle and to making a certain number of compromises just to keep it in check. His beast agreed to stay beneath the surface of his skin if Graham agreed to give up the internal debate and fuck her. When her slick, clinging muscles wrapped around his cock, his beast would content itself with that and stop with the foaming at the mouth bit. It was a truce Graham could definitely get behind.
Before he could reach for her, Missy’s patience ran out. She dropped her hands, pushed herself up from the floor and glared straight into his eyes. “Did you break all those land speed records so you could admire my fine eyes, or could we get on with the more interesting stuff?”
His beast growled, and the smile he gave her felt feral. When his tongue darted out to lick his lips, it rubbed against the edge of his fangs, and he smiled wider.
“Interesting,” he growled. “Very interesting.” Then he lunged.
He dove for her like a wolf diving for the jugular of its prey. She jerked with the gracelessness of instinct and rolled away. He grinned and feigned a pounce, and she scrambled to her knees to eye him warily.
“What the heck are you doing?” she demanded.
“You said you liked men who get furry. I’m letting you see my furry side.” Her eyes widened, and he watched as her posture shifted from aggressive to wary. He sniffed, testing the air, but he couldn’t smell any of the bitter taint of fear marring her rich, sweet scent.
In fact , he thought, sniffing again, the
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