Page 113 of Howl for Me
My moans turn into cries, gasps, shouts, each one ripped straight from my chest. And he won’t stop watching me. Those burning eyes never leave mine, even as he snarls through clenched teeth, even as sweat drips down his furred chest. He watches me fall apart beneath him.
I come hard, clenching around him, legs shaking, vision blurred. But he keeps going, hips grinding faster, rougher. The slap of fur and skin fills the air, and I know he’s close. I can feel it.
“You’re mine,” he snarls, thrusting deeper.
“I’m yours,” I gasp. “All of me.” When I say the words, his face looks pained then, I feel it.
The knot. Thick and swollen and pushing against my entrance, trying to lock us together. My eyes fly open as he drives forward again, and the knot pushes inside with a stretch that burns and stuns and shatters me open all over again.
“Johnny—”
He growls, his body locking tight against mine. “Fuck—I’m—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He howls. His hips jerk against mine and I feel it, all of it, his cum spilling hot and thick inside me, pulsing in heavy waves that flood every inch of me. I clutch at his fur, panting, moaning, unable to move with his knot holding me down, holding me full.
And then his voice breaks, soft, ruined, human.
“I couldn’t stop…fuck… You feel too fucking good.”
He shudders, tongue swiping along my throat in a slow, possessive lick. “I can feel you clenching. God, you’re still milking me.”
I feel his release drip out of me around his swollen, knotted cock that still has us locked together.
He wasn’t supposed to do that. I should panic. But I don’t because his golden eyes meet mine, and even like this, he’s still there. Still Johnny. Still mine. And we don’t move. We’re stuck,fused, until his knot finally begins to swell down. We stare at each other like the world narrowed to just this, just us.
Then the clapping starts. Slow and deliberate at first, then it grows. A rising wave of sound that slams me back into reality. The crew, the cameras, the shoot. Oh god, we just…
I suck in a sharp breath and look away. We just went completely off script. I’d completely forgotten while I was lost in him. In the way he treated my body like it was something sacred. In the way he looked at me like I was everything. Now his eyes are wide with a different emotion. Panic.
He pulls out, and I flinch at the sudden loss. His release spills from me, warm and thick, slipping down my thighs as I sit there trembling, stunned, and completely undone.
“Cass,” he breathes, panic tightening his voice.
He reaches for me and helps me sit up gently, cradling me like I’m made of glass. I’m still trying to pull myself together when Naomi sweeps in, calm and collected, slipping a robe over my shoulders. I don’t say a word. I can’t. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, reality is slapping me across the face.
Johnny scoops me into his arms, shielding me from the world and rushing us off the set. I bury my face in his neck, pretending the stares, the lights, the reality, isn’t clawing at me from all sides. He brings me into his dressing room, kicks the door shut, and carries me straight into the bathroom. His hands are trembling. Mine are too. He sets me gently on the counter, turning toward the tub and filling it with steaming water, his back tight with tension. When he faces me again, his eyes are glassy.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. “Yeah. I think so.”
But I can barely look at him. I’m so full of questions I can’t even form yet. He steps between my knees and cups my face, kissing me deep like he needs to taste forgiveness on my tongue.
“I’m so sorry,” he says against my mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. I had to stop myself from marking you. I was so focused on fighting the urge that I lost myself in you. I’m so sorry, Cass. I was hanging on by a thread, And I lost it. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I swallow, blinking back tears I didn’t realize were forming. I reach up and kiss him again.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“No, it’s not. You don’t understand what it means.”
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes.
“Yes, I do, Johnny.”
And we both fall quiet because we do know what it means. We just aren’t saying it. Not yet. I should be panicking. I should be terrified. He knotted me. I could get pregnant.
Pregnant.
