chuckling at her antics. He’d
let her win. Because she always won. She was faster than him. Faster to tease
him, faster to fall into his arms. Faster to love him.
And he was grateful his heart had grown steadfast for his
werewolf wife.
*
Cherry-red fingernails glided over the black satin
sheets, clutching, then releasing the slippery fabric. Her lover’s tongue
performed the same slippery glide over her skin, purposeful and determined to
lick every inch, and taste every drop of water following the shower. He meant to
devour her and she enjoyed being the feast.
Blu Saint-Pierre purred like a kitten, and the image of a
pleased feline curling about a vampire’s legs made her laugh.
Creed looked up from her stomach, where he’d been lashing at
her navel. Dark hair hung over his brows. “You find this funny?”
“I was thinking I sound like a kitten purring under your expert
tongue.”
“You do. I love your purrs, my pretty little kitty cat.”
“Don’t you dare start calling me that.” She hooked her legs
over his shoulders and redirected his ministrations. “I’m wolf to the core.”
“A wolf who smells like chocolate.” He nipped the inside of her
thigh, right there, where the slightest touch made her shiver in anticipation of
where he would next touch her skin. “Even down here. Did you bathe in chocolate
syrup?”
“I thought you liked sweet treats?”
“I do.” He lashed his tongue across her swollen clitoris, and
Blu’s body reacted, her hips surging upward to receive more of his delicious
torture. He did not disappoint.
“It’s bath oil,” she said. “Perfumes me even after I’ve dried
off.”
“Wear it always.” His fingers slid along her folds, firmly,
then softer, knowing exactly how to play her to a humming mess of want and
desire. Surrender eddied in her core, challenging her to release even though she
was already blissfully sated. “Come for me, lover. My beautiful
chocolate-flavored wolf.”
“Not without you.”
Blu shifted her hips, taking Creed by surprise, and flipped him
onto his back to land against the pillows with a moan. She shimmied down and
kissed his mouth, his chest, his belly and then his magnificent cock.
He in turn spread her legs and buried his tongue inside her.
When she nibbled along his thick shaft, he hummed against her delicate folds,
and the vibrations rocketed her pleasure to the stratosphere. His hips bucked
slowly, demanding his measure, and she slickened her strokes with her tongue and
clasped the base of him tightly with one hand while cupping his testicles with
the other.
Her vampire husband dropped his head and forgot his attentions
to her. She loved that she could command him so easily. “That’s right. You’re
mine,” she purred, and another giggle was unavoidable. “But don’t forget about
me.”
As he growled against her clit and began to come, she relaxed
her tight core muscles and surrendered to a matching climax. Together they cried
out, harmonizing in ecstasy. Too much—and not enough—and always just right. Blu
lifted up on her palms and her husband slickened her chest with his forceful
release.
She fell aside, rolling onto her back, and slid a hand over her
chest. Licking her fingers clean refocused her thoughts. So much potential for
life in this substance. And then she thought about what she always tried not to
think about after sex—a vampire could not get a werewolf pregnant. It wasn’t the
way things worked between their breeds, for reasons beyond her ken. Though
certainly a werewolf male could impregnate a female vampire. And she had heard
rumors the reverse was possible with great magic, or voodoo, or who knew, maybe
some kind of faery boon.
Creed nestled alongside her, nudging his nose into her
coal-dark hair and cupping her breast with his wide, warm hand. His hard muscles
melded against her softness like a puzzle piece finding home. He smelled like
sex and chocolate and strength. “What are you thinking
let her win. Because she always won. She was faster than him. Faster to tease
him, faster to fall into his arms. Faster to love him.
And he was grateful his heart had grown steadfast for his
werewolf wife.
*
Cherry-red fingernails glided over the black satin
sheets, clutching, then releasing the slippery fabric. Her lover’s tongue
performed the same slippery glide over her skin, purposeful and determined to
lick every inch, and taste every drop of water following the shower. He meant to
devour her and she enjoyed being the feast.
Blu Saint-Pierre purred like a kitten, and the image of a
pleased feline curling about a vampire’s legs made her laugh.
Creed looked up from her stomach, where he’d been lashing at
her navel. Dark hair hung over his brows. “You find this funny?”
“I was thinking I sound like a kitten purring under your expert
tongue.”
“You do. I love your purrs, my pretty little kitty cat.”
“Don’t you dare start calling me that.” She hooked her legs
over his shoulders and redirected his ministrations. “I’m wolf to the core.”
“A wolf who smells like chocolate.” He nipped the inside of her
thigh, right there, where the slightest touch made her shiver in anticipation of
where he would next touch her skin. “Even down here. Did you bathe in chocolate
syrup?”
“I thought you liked sweet treats?”
“I do.” He lashed his tongue across her swollen clitoris, and
Blu’s body reacted, her hips surging upward to receive more of his delicious
torture. He did not disappoint.
“It’s bath oil,” she said. “Perfumes me even after I’ve dried
off.”
“Wear it always.” His fingers slid along her folds, firmly,
then softer, knowing exactly how to play her to a humming mess of want and
desire. Surrender eddied in her core, challenging her to release even though she
was already blissfully sated. “Come for me, lover. My beautiful
chocolate-flavored wolf.”
“Not without you.”
Blu shifted her hips, taking Creed by surprise, and flipped him
onto his back to land against the pillows with a moan. She shimmied down and
kissed his mouth, his chest, his belly and then his magnificent cock.
He in turn spread her legs and buried his tongue inside her.
When she nibbled along his thick shaft, he hummed against her delicate folds,
and the vibrations rocketed her pleasure to the stratosphere. His hips bucked
slowly, demanding his measure, and she slickened her strokes with her tongue and
clasped the base of him tightly with one hand while cupping his testicles with
the other.
Her vampire husband dropped his head and forgot his attentions
to her. She loved that she could command him so easily. “That’s right. You’re
mine,” she purred, and another giggle was unavoidable. “But don’t forget about
me.”
As he growled against her clit and began to come, she relaxed
her tight core muscles and surrendered to a matching climax. Together they cried
out, harmonizing in ecstasy. Too much—and not enough—and always just right. Blu
lifted up on her palms and her husband slickened her chest with his forceful
release.
She fell aside, rolling onto her back, and slid a hand over her
chest. Licking her fingers clean refocused her thoughts. So much potential for
life in this substance. And then she thought about what she always tried not to
think about after sex—a vampire could not get a werewolf pregnant. It wasn’t the
way things worked between their breeds, for reasons beyond her ken. Though
certainly a werewolf male could impregnate a female vampire. And she had heard
rumors the reverse was possible with great magic, or voodoo, or who knew, maybe
some kind of faery boon.
Creed nestled alongside her, nudging his nose into her
coal-dark hair and cupping her breast with his wide, warm hand. His hard muscles
melded against her softness like a puzzle piece finding home. He smelled like
sex and chocolate and strength. “What are you thinking
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