Rutledge Werewolves 1: Scent of Passion by Elizabeth Lapthorne

wriggled, positioned herself so her mound rested just below his balls. It was the perfect position for her to lean over him, cover the length of his torso with her own body and nibble at his nipples.
    Slowly, taking her own sweet time, she wetly kissed the erect little nubs and ran her fingers through the light, springy hair that covered his chest. Whisper-soft, she raked her nails through the hair, enough to cause a sensation, but not enough to mark his skin or hurt.
    Swirling her fingers, creating patterns at random, she enticed him, teased him while giving him some pleasure, just knowing it was not nearly enough. Slowly at first, and then more and more rapidly as she nibbled and teased his nipples, she listened as Artemais’ breathing began to come in pants. She wiggled her bottom slightly, pretending to get a better position, and enjoyed feeling the rock hardness of him. His cock strained, his balls were raised and heavy—just how she liked her man.
    Gently meandering, she let her hands circle lower and lower. Teasingly, she skimmed his hipbone, only to rise back to his abs. When both her hands ran over his lower belly, giving only the merest caress to the head of his cock as they passed over its tip, she finally elicited the groan she sought from Artemais.
    “Something wrong, Artemais?”
    Not even expecting him to answer, Sophie smiled at the stoic expression on his face. When faced with such manly stubbornness, what else was a girl to do but try to wring the biggest response possible from her adorable lover?
    Pulling out the big guns, Sophie slid down his body a few more inches. Wetly, she kissed down the centerline of his chest. Slowly, with nibbles here and there, still caressing and lightly scoring his chest, Sophie meandered her way down his chest, heading towards the hugely straining cock.
    As she halted, the base of her chin just a hairbreadth away from the tip of his cock, Sophie felt a thrill of success as Artemais canted his hips unconsciously, begging silently for her to take him.
    Cupping his balls, Sophie looked up the length of his body. Face flushed, eyes wild, Artemais watched her, fists clenched at his side. He was biting his lip, holding himself back in every way, waiting for her pleasure. Something about having this strong, large man at her mercy made her smile hugely, eyes brightening with joy.
    “Sophie,” he growled, part plea, part warning.
    She tried to place an innocent expression on her face, but she suspected the large grin threatening to split her mouth ruined the effect.
    She turned her head back and took him into her mouth, as deeply as she could comfortably go without choking. They both groaned—at the pleasure, at the heat. Sophie sucked him deep into her mouth, swiping her tongue over his head and swallowing the tiny pearls of pre-cum.
    Wrapping the rest of his length firmly within her grasp, she slowly, gently, started caressing him, pumping him. She worked as slowly as she dared. She didn’t want his ardor to cool, but she did want to drag these moments out as long as possible.
    Teasing him, she laved his head, pumped his cock, then looked up to his face. Artemais’ eyes were now squeezed tightly shut, his head thrown back in pleasure. His nails dug into his palms, clenched at his side.
    Sophie started playing gently with his balls, rolling the sac in her hands, lightly flicking her nail along the soft under-skin.
    In a rush, Artemais reached for her and drew her head down onto his cock more deeply. “Please, Soph. Finish me.”
    Sophie grinned around his cock. Their silent game of chicken had paid off. Artemais looked half-wild with his lust. His eyes burned with lust and desire, his hips thrust his cock into her mouth. Feeling an answering dampness inside her, Sophie realized that by taking control of their lovemaking, she took control of herself in their relationship.
    Releasing her mouth from his cock, she tried not to giggle at the moan of disappointment that came from