Claws & Crochet

Part 50

Content warning: The steamy scene continues in this chapter. Brace yourself!

WARNER

With swift hands, Zoey tugs off my boots before fully stripping off my pants and briefs. Then she climbs over me, straddling my hips, and settles the hot core of her against my rigid cock. A broken groan pushes out of my throat as my mind tries to deal with the delicious torture of being pinned down by lace-covered perfection. One thin strip of material separates us.

As I'm losing my mind, Zoey is still meticulously removing my clothing. She tugs my grease-stained t-shirt over my head, so I finally lie completely naked beneath her.

"This is my favorite position to finish in." She stares down at me, palms braced on my shoulders, waiting for an answer.

"Hell yes. I can't wait—" My grip is on her hips, lifting her up, trying to figure out how to tug off her panties when she has her legs straddling me.

"No." Slim fingers wrap around my wrists. Zoey removes my hands, and I grumble in disappointment. Then she pins my arms above my head, her face hovering just over mine, a sexy, scolding look in her eyes. "You haven't been paying attention."

A disbelieving scoff bursts from my chest. I've done nothing but pay attention. My eyes haven't left Zoey since she sauntered into the mechanic's shop.

Zoey smirks, then leans down to bite my lower lip. Hard. She doesn't draw blood. But she does almost make me come.

"Warner, what do I want?" She murmurs against my mouth, her tongue coming out to sooth the spot where her teeth dug in.

I swallow multiple times before I can form words. "You want to ride me?" This feels like a test. What will I get if I answer wrong? More importantly, what will I get if I answer correctly?

"Hmmm." She drops her head lower and suddenly I feel a hard bite on my neck. My hips jerk up in response, my body writhing in pleasure.

Zoey's human strength is no match for my supernatural abilities. If I wanted, I could easily break her hold, roll over with her pinned under me, and drive through her flimsy underwear.

But I don't want that.

Something in me craves Zoey's control. She's dominating me, and I've never had a more erotic experience in my life.

Nothing has ever felt so intimate.

"What do I want?"

Hell, I need to answer her. She demands it. I struggle to form thoughts and make them into words.

"My-my dick. You want to suck it."

At first she doesn't respond, her head only moves lower, and I brace myself for another tormenting bite. But then she places a soft kiss in the middle of my chest, and her grip on my wrists releases.

"That's a good werewolf." Zoey murmurs, her voice husky, her breath teasing the coarse hair on my chest. I wonder if she minds that I'm not smooth like some male model or the werewolves on a CW show.

The way her fingers flex in it, the way her nose traces through it, the way her lips press trails of kisses in it, make me think she doesn't mind my fuzz in the slightest.

Then her mouth is level with my cock and thinking becomes impossible.

I've seen callouses on Zoey's fingers, results of her DIY projects. But when she touches me, her skin is warm silk.

She slips off the couch, kneeling on the floor. Her breasts press into my thighs, tempting me. I want to cup them. The brief handful I got earlier in the shop was over too soon.

When she rides me, I promise myself.

Zoey grips the base of me so I stand erect.

Then, the erotic torment begins.

Her tongue drags up my entire length, before flicking the tip. A bead of precum seeps out, and I watch Zoey deliberately lick the drop.

It's possible that I'm bleeding, the nails of my fingers digging so hard into my palms.

She then sets my dick on her full bottom lip and proceeds to work her way down. Zoey doesn't draw in every inch immediately. Instead, she pulls me in, bit by bit, every centimeter of my cock receiving an introduction to her mouth. She bathes me with her tongue, tightens her lips for a second of suction, then gives the gentlest of warnings with a light tease of teeth.

My breathing becomes frantic. Lust boils my brain. The couch groans as I grip the frame, needing something to hold onto. Something to keep me from tangling my hands in Zoey's hair and holding her to me, so she has no choice but to finish blowing my mind.

Then the wet heat of her mouth disappears, and I mutter a cursing protest.

"Warner?" The seductress aspect of her voice is muted, and she's back to curious. Honestly, I don't know which side of her I find more intoxicating.

"Yeah?" I try to keep the desperation from my response.

"What's your recovery time like? Is it faster because you're a werewolf? Can I finish you in my mouth, and still get to fuck you in a bit? Or, should I bring you to the edge and then have you finish inside me?"

Zoey is lucky I don't shoot off just at the sound of those dirty, analytical questions dropping from her glistening lips. Especially when her hand circles my erection, continuing to work me over as she rattles them off.

"I—uh." Earlier, I bragged about my stamina. But the truth is, my other hook ups never lasted more than one round. I clench my teeth and grip the couch harder as her thumb traces over my sensitive head in an almost absent-minded manner. When I think I can talk, I try again. "In the past"—I gasp—"I've been one and done. But with you"—the word morphs into a pleasurable growl. "I don't know, Zoey. Fuck if I know."

A satisfied smile curves her lips. "Guess we're taking you to the edge, then."