Page 49 of Enemy Wolf

“Fuck,” Orson cursed. He’d started slow but quickly pressed all the way in, filling me to the brim with a gasp.

“Mm, perfect fit.” I ran my nails over his ribs, running them down to his perky ass to encourage him to thrust.

“You’re perfect.” Orson’s forehead rested on mine as he started moving in slow but deep rolls of his hips. “Fuck, you’re so soft. But you’re gripping me like…it’s so much better than, I mean, fuck, you just feel so good.”

His babbling was adorable, and a laugh rose out of me as I kissed under his jaw.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m not laughing at you, you’re just so cute.”

“Cute, huh?” His hips jacked forward, crashing into me with a hard slap. “Seems I’m not fucking you hard enough.”

“You…oh, fuck…you can be both…” The strength he was putting into his thrusts was making it hard to concentrate on anything beside how perfectly he filled me. His increased speed and friction was already building me up to another orgasm.

“I’ll be your cute werewolf later,” Orson bit out through gritted teeth. “But right now, I’m taking my mate. Giving her the fucking she’s been begging me for.”

“Yes,” I cried out, holding onto his waist, his arms flexed with muscle, the motorcycle, anything I could to hold myself in place as he drove into me again and again.

Orson’s hips crashed into my spread-open thighs, his abs flexing hypnotically with every press forward and pull back. Fuck, he was just beautiful to watch, an erotic sight even if I wasn’t the one currently being fucked by him. But I was, and that made me the luckiest damn witch in Vargmore.

His rhythm didn’t shift in the slightest when his thumb returned to my clit, and I knew it would be game over for me soon. All of my senses were leading me straight toward another orgasm. The touch of him stroking inside me and rubbing my pleasure center on the outside. The sight of him, muscles hard and defined as he thrust into me fluidly. And fucking moon, the sounds he made. Just his ragged breaths, moans, and muttered curses alone added a whole new level of eroticism to it all. I never imagined men making noise would be a thing for me but with Orson, it absolutely was.

He knew I was on the edge the moment it happened. I was trembling with the onset of release, my breath tight in my chest. Orson gave me a tender kiss while he continued to work me with his cock and his fingers.

“Be a good girl and come for me, Shiloh.”

Fuck me, that did it.

I never thought I’d be one to come on command, but being with your fated mate hits different. Being with Orson was different.

My body locked up again, and this time, I didn’t know if I took another little peek into the human world because my eyes were squeezed shut from the intensity. I couldn’t tell up from down, so I clung to my strong, incredible mate as my orgasm squeezed around his thick cock in pulsing waves.

Just when I started to come down, Orson’s body tensed on a strangled gasp, and he pressed into me as far as he could go. I felt the swelling and spilling heat of his own release, which only seemed to drag my pleasure out longer.

We stayed connected, leaning on each other with our flagging strength. My head came to his shoulder, and he rested his chin on top of my head.

“Come back to the lodge with me,” he said softly after a few moments of quiet. “Stay with me until we know you’re safe.”

I nodded against his shoulder. “Until everyone is safe.”

Chapter 18

Orson

Shiloh and I left the mountain empty-handed. After we got redressed and went for a little walk into the meadow, she took one final look at the plant she’d intended to gather and said, “Fuck the potion.”

I couldn’t agree more. She still hadn’t told me what it would be used for, but I figured we’d get all that information once we sat down with Derric and the rest of Howling Death. While packing up to head back down the mountain, she’d tentatively agreed that we needed to alert the pack.

I hated that this dragon bastard had scared her into not seeking help, made her feel like she had to do this impossible task alone. The sooner that scaly asshole was caught, the better.

The ride back into town was much too short, even if it did take a full day and a half. I loved the feel of Shiloh riding with me, her head on the back of my shoulder, arms holding me for support, fingers idly stroking my chest. I never wanted the ride to end.

As we came up to the Howling Death lodge, I started warming up to the idea of getting off the bike only because I could soon have Shiloh in my bed. It wasn’t even about sex; my instincts were hellbent on providing a safe, comfortable place for my mate. Would my blankets and pillows be soft enough? Next time I washed them, I was going to dump a gallon of fabric softener in there. And then I’d wrap her in them until her scent was permanently embedded in the fibers. I should also double-check the seal on the window to make sure there’d be no cold drafts in the room.

A tall figure was chopping wood in front of the lodge when we pulled up. I scented Derric in the air, and the long hair tied up messily and scarred back confirmed it. Without meaning to, my lip curled up in a snarl. Did he have to be doing that right now? Without a shirt on?

The alpha turned around and gave us a wave, resting the long handle of the axe along the back of his shoulders. “Hey, you two. Have a nice getaway?”

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