Werewolves of New York: Nathaniel by Faleena Hopkins Page A

miracle of that. After a few moments of petting him, she kneeled. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispered, tracing her index finger from his forehead to the end of the long black muzzle. She lifted his chin and he gazed at her. “Thank you for trusting me.”
    He stepped back. The sounds of bones cracking echoed off the walls again as he shifted to his human form. As his head completed shaping, he raised it and met her eyes. There was so much emotion staring back at her! She walked to him and he met her halfway. Touching his cheek, she tilted her head for a kiss. He brushed pink lips against hers and whispered, “I am overcome.”
    She shook her head and smiled, overjoyed and quieted by the respect she had for him. “I have no desire to run from you. I just want to get closer.”
    His eyes blazed hot and the glow returned. He picked her up and mangled her lips with hot kisses as he carried her to her bedroom, flipping on the light. “I want to look at you.”
    “Whatever you want. I’m yours,” she breathed, gasping as he kissed her harder and searched her mouth with his skillful tongue. The sensations his kisses sent choked her up. She’d never been this happy in her life and as he lowered her to the bed, she ordered herself silently not to cry. She was with a supernatural being, and one who seemed to have eyes only for her. The tears stopped cold from excitement as his fingernails sharpened and like razor blades he used them to rip her dress from her body. Her lacy nude bra and panties were exposed to him and torn red fabric lie on either side like a frame. He stood up, his body lit from the side, the floor lamp dim and perfect for this moment. Every muscle had shadows. He looked like Heaven.
    “Do you want to keep your lingerie items?”
    She blinked down at her body, happy to find the shadows did nice things for her curves. Her breasts in this underwire were fabulous with her resting on her elbows and gravity doing its best to make them shine. Her tummy could use some toning, but since he didn’t seem to mind, she threw that self-conscious thought out the window where it belonged. “Tear them off.”
    He bent down, his shoulders sinewy as he slipped a long fingernail under the middle of her bra and ripped it in half. Her breasts tumbled freely and he stared at them with all-consuming need. Falling on his knees, he took one into his mouth, the heat from his tongue sending her into euphoria. He teased and kissed and sucked her dusky pink crest, holding her other breast with his hand, the sharp nails gone. He rubbed her other nipple with his thumb as he worked this one with his mouth and she moaned.
    His nostrils flared. “Your scent. It’s killing me.”
    Horrified, she gasped, “What?”
    “I can smell your arousal,” he said, thickly, against her tender bare skin.
    She relaxed. “Oh. Do you like it?”
    “Like is too weak a word. I yearn for it.” He travelled blazing hot kisses down her stomach and looked up. “Say the word.”
    She moaned under the gentle rubbing of his thumb on her nipple. “Taste me. I want you to. Tear my panties off with your teeth if you can.”
    He chuckled and repeated, “If I can,” as if the idea that he couldn’t was ludicrous. His teeth grew sharper as she stared. He smiled a dirty smile and bit the tiny strand of flimsy lace that rode on her hip. Running his fangs the length of the front of her panties until he was on the other hip, he paused. Then with one tear they were off. As his teeth went back to normal, he watched her with interest.
    “Still don’t want to run?”
    She shook her head. “See what I taste like.”
    He groaned at her command and spread her legs to gaze at her pussy. He pushed open her folds and stared, drinking her in with glowing eyes. She started to throb under his stare. His nostrils flared as he bent down and spread her with his fingers, his tongue extended slightly. She moaned, waiting for him, the ache