Claws & Crochet

Part 52

Content warning: the steamy scene continues through the beginning of this chapter!

ZOEY

Our moans mingle as I lift my hips and begin to rock. There will probably be bruises on my backside from the way Warner's fingers dig into me, urging me faster. Maybe it's crazy, but I love the idea.

In fact, I want his touch everywhere.

My hands sneak back, covering his and prying the grip away.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. Too hard?"

"Not at all. But try here." And just like in the mechanic's shop, I press his palms over my boobs.

Warner mutters a string of curses as he kneads my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples before pinching them. Encouragements spill from my lips, and I bare down harder. Suddenly, Warner sits up, capturing a tight peak in his mouth, giving it the same ravenous attention he offered my clit earlier.

Gasping his name, I lose control of my body and the situation. All I want is more. I need him to break apart because I feel myself cracking. His mouth is on my nipple, his one palm on my ass and his other on my back, holding me to him. The man surrounds me, fills me, and continues to give me everything I ask for.

My arm snakes behind my back, landing on his inner thigh. I trace upward until I find what I'm looking for. When my light grip cups his balls, Warner's head snaps back. His eyes meet mine, and I'm surprised to find them almost entirely black. I'm even more shocked to realize I like it.

"I'm close." His voice is rough as if pleasure has torn at his throat. "Come. I want to feel it."

"Rub my clit." I lean back enough to give him access. The second his finger presses against the nerves, I know I'm done for.

"Yes. Like that. Just keep—" Words fail as my muscles tense again. I release him only to immediately dig my nails into the flesh of his leg. Then the snap comes, and I'm clenching and crying out his name.

"Zoey!" He leaves off my clit, using both his hands to grasp at my hips, holding me to him, grinding into me. I'm almost too lost in my orgasm daze to hear his triumphant shout. Warner bucks, once. Twice. Then he collapses back on the bed, dragging me with him.

Our post-coital recovery isn't relaxed. The two of us gasp and pant as if we didn't breathe the entire time we moved together. My fingers and toes continue to twitch with aftershocks. I flex them to ease the tension from my orgasm. In fact, I need to stretch every muscle in my body.

Intending to do so, I roll off Warner's chest, aiming for the space at his side. He catches me before I can get away, clutching my body to his.

"Where're you going?" he slurs.

I prop my chin up on his chest so I can meet his eyes.

"Usually have to stretch after a workout like that."

Warner's body shakes with a chuckle. "Careful you don't fall."

Curious, I glance to the side and realize I was about to roll straight off the edge of the bed. Hitting the hardwood floor would've been a major mood dampener.

"Got it. Officially rolling in the other direction." This time Warner lets me go, and I bounce onto his cushy mattress.

Immediately, I extend my arms above my head, moaning in pleasure as my muscles welcome the movement.

"Fucking hell. Keep making that noise and I'm going to be ready to go again before you know it."

"Promises," I murmur, settling into a comfortable sprawl.

Warner shifts onto his side, bending an elbow and propping his head in his hand to stare down at me. He reaches a hand out to my hair, and I hear a click. When he pulls back, I spy my hair clip in his fingers, glittering gold in the sunlight from his window.

The werewolf examines my little craft as if he finds it fascinating.

"Can I see you change?" I ask.

Warner raises a brow, setting my hair clip on the nightstand. "Into my wolf?"

I nod. "That's not offensive to ask, is it?"

As a smile stretches across his face, I get the sense I've done the complete opposite of offend him. He looks pleased, if slightly wary. The next second, he's off the bed and in the middle of the room.

Every inch of his glorious, naked body on display.

"This'll take longer than last time, since it's not the full moon and there's no danger around. You sure you want to see?"

"Yes." I pull a sheet over me as I sit up, ready to watch magic in action.

"All right. Prepare to be amazed." Warner closes his eyes and stands completely still.

Almost a full minute passes without anything happening. Long enough that doubt shadows my excitement. Even after talking to my mother, I realize I'm not completely convinced I didn't imagine the whole incident. That my mind hasn't found another way to betray me.

Then the space around Warner darkens, as if a black fog has risen in the air. The darkness clings to his skin, obscuring him, until I can't resist the urge to rub my eyes, trying to dispel the blur.

The distorted mass shifts, lowers, then dissipates.

And I'm alone in an apartment with a wolf.

A very large wolf.

"HOLY SHIT!" I push to my knees, leaning forward, then almost immediately flinch back, my ass hitting the mattress. Silly me forgot to ask Warner just how wolfish he gets in this form.

Does his mind disappear? If I was in danger, he would've told me, right?

"Can you . . . understand me?" I ask, silently wishing I had put some clothes on before this experiment. Wanting more than just a sheet between me and that impressive jaw full of sharp teeth.

The better to eat you with my dear.

Then, the creature's shaggy head dips in a clear nod.

"So, you're still in there, Warner?"

Another nod paired with a huff.

I think he's laughing at me.

Carefully, I climb off the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped tight.

My instincts scream at me.

Danger! Don't do this! Don't you like your organs inside your body?!

But he trusted me with this universe-shattering secret. The least I can do is not make him feel like a pariah. And as I stuff the fear deep down in my chest, I realize something.

Warner is beautiful.

Apparently, werewolves aren't some terrifying, grotesque creature of nightmares. He looks like a wolf. A very large wolf, but I've never interacted with a wolf before so maybe this is normal sized. His fur is a luscious, thick charcoal gray that I want to bury my hands in.

I don't.

"Remind me to ask you more questions when you have the ability to speak," I murmur, settling cross-legged in front of him.

Wolf Warner stretches his head out, nose sniffing my hair. Then, a moment later, the air fogs again, and I lose sight of the animal. Soon a naked man is crouched on the hardwood. Warner reaches out, wrapping his arms around me, and gathering me to his chest.

"You're amazing," he whispers into my hair. "The day you came to town was the best fucking day."

It takes all my concentration not to stiffen at his words.

They sound so . . . hopeful. Like this is the start of something.

Pine Falls was supposed to be an experiment. A chance to test my ability to live away from the safety cocoon my family wraps myself in.

But I'm not sure I've proved I'm strong enough.

Still, I won't be done with the cabin for a few more weeks at least. I'm not about to disappear.

Yet.