Page 77 of A Malicious Menagerie
I must tense or start breathing more quickly, because before I can spiral too far into the memory, Chase leans down to my ear again and murmurs, “You okay?”
The sound of his familiar deep voice, smooth now instead of rough with lack of use like when I first met him, pulls me back to the present. I relax against him, raising one arm to twine my fingers in his wet hair. “I’m amazing,” I tell him honestly, and he answers with a growl and a hot kiss pressed just below my ear.
Chase slips his palms down to cup my breasts, squeezing the soft mounds before circling my tight nipples and pinching gently. The spark of pleasure arrows down my belly like a lit fuse to detonate an intense need between my thighs. I arch into his touch with a gasp, and his growl is a constant rumble in my ear now as he traces one slick palm down my belly, the other still cradling my breast. When his fingers brush the border between my bare skin and the dark blonde curls hiding my sex, I part my thighs, inviting him in. Hissatisfied hum reverberates against my ear as he cups my mound possessively. When his fingertips gently coax my lower lips apart and brush my clit, I moan and grasp his forearm in my free hand, holding him where I want him. As his fingers slick back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves, I feel the play of his muscles under his skin like steel cords strung tight along his bones. When he slips down to circle a fingertip at my entrance, I tilt my hips, encouraging him, and almost sob with relief when he presses inside.
As he strokes in and out of me, brushing a place inside me each time that has me seeing stars against the backs of my closed eyelids, I let my head loll back against his shoulder. For a few blissful minutes, there’s nothing but the feel of his hot, slick skin against my back and the thick, insistent press of his fingers filling me again and again. Nothing but the sounds of our panting breaths, the steady patter of the water against the tiles, and the slick noises from the juncture of my thighs, all loud in the enclosed space. Nothing but thick, apple-scented steam filling my lungs, an intoxicating haze that warms me from the inside out.
The climax builds gradually, a slow, irresistible tightening deep in my core. I almost don’t realize I’m nearly there until my sheath clamps down on his fingers as if trying to hold him inside me. I gasp his name as I come, my body seized by the force of it. A frenzied whirlwind of colors dances across my vision until I wonder if my mind might simply unravel. Chase keeps his fingers pressed inside me, his thumb slowly working my clit, the precise friction drawing out deep, resonant tremors and every last shudder and whimper from my sensitized body.
When I come back to myself after long, hazy moments, I gently pull his hand away from my pussy, exhaling sharply at the feeling of his fingers slipping from inside my body. Drawing his hand up to my lips, I kiss his scarred knuckles, the musky scent of my desire perfuming the air between us, before I turn around to press a smile to his lips. “My turn.”
For a long moment, I get caught up kissing him, sucking the water from his lower lip as I reach up to scratch my short nails through the stubble along his jaw. When I finally pull back to look at him, I’m struck again by just how beautiful he is. His inky black hair, shorter now than when I met him, hangsuntidily over his forehead, and his long eyelashes are spiked and beaded with crystalline water droplets. Water runs in rivulets over his prominent cheekbones and his firm lips before cascading from his squared chin. Still, as always, there’s something covetous and feral in his eyes that would be more at home on a wolf tracking a doe from the shade between trees, and some primitive instinct deep in my hindbrain shudders. He’ll never be quite human, something more always lurking just under his skin. He will never think quite like a human, and he will never feel things quite like a human.
And yet, he has already proven that he will protect me, kill for me, care for me, and love me until his last breath. And how many women can say that about their human men?
I must stare for a beat too long because he quirks a smile. Suddenly, man, wolf, or somewhere in between, he’s just Chase. “What are you thinking?”
“That I love you,” I reply honestly, leaning up to kiss him again before reaching for my body wash on one of the corner shelves. “You’re going to smell like me,” I warn him, figuring he might not want to smell like a pumpkin spice latte.
“Fuck, I hope so,” he replies with a grin, and that’s all the permission I need to get my greedy hands on him.
Depositing a liberal amount of soap into my palm, I start at his neck, running my fingers under his jawline and along the steady throb of his jugular under the mass of scar tissue that makes my heart squeeze with sympathy. Still, a wave of happiness washes away the pain like tropical waves pulling flotsam out to sea after a storm. After everything—all the fear and abuse and hopelessness—he’s finally free. And he might have literally killed for me, but I’m surprised at the level of resolve I feel to keep him safe and out of Mathis’s clutches.
I move to his shoulders next, my palms measuring the breadth of them before tracing my thumbs over the firm sweeps of his collarbones. I linger at the expanse of his chest, cleaning away the leftover flecks and smears of blood before simply luxuriating in the solid swells of his pecs and the smattering of dark hair that narrows down to a thin line bisecting his abdomen. My fingertips tingle where they meet his hot skin, and my chest aches withsomething like relief at being able to touch him the way I’ve been craving for weeks. Finally, I have him all to myself.
He rumbles contentedly when I skim my nails along his ridged abdomen. The sound cuts off with a grunt when I wrap my fingers carefully around his cock, my fingers not quite meeting around his girth. As I stroke up and down his length, trialing different pressures and speeds to figure out what he likes, I watch his face closely for clues. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to flicker closed, and a moment later, his hand shoots out, slapping against the slick tiles. His fingers curl against the surface as if he needs to hold himself up, and that’s a heady, powerful feeling. My lips curling, I redouble my efforts, and I squeak in surprise when he grabs my ass with his free hand, his fingertips gripping tightly but not hard enough to hurt. “Fuck, Anna,” he grunts as I tighten my grip just a bit. “That’s so good.”
“Want it to feel even better?” I ask slyly.
“I don’t know how—” He cuts off as I carefully drop to my knees. “Anna, you don’t have to—”
His words are interrupted by a groan as I trace that sexy indent along one hip with my tongue. “I want to,” I murmur. “I’ve thought about doing this so many times.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Have you?”
I roll my eyes. “What do you think I was picturing every time I saw you naked?”
Still, up close and personal with his massive dick, I’ll admit: I’m a bit daunted. In addition to stretching beyond the limits of my grip, he’s as hard as the iron bars that used to cage him.
“You don’t have to—”
“Hush,” I tell him again, saving us both from his misplaced chivalry. Who knew my usually flirty, self-assured wolf was such a worrywart? I take a deep breath before leaning in to press a kiss to the smooth head. He tastes of salt and warm musk, and I part my lips to take him into my mouth, wanting more.
The string of curses that burst out of Chase would make me laugh if my mouth weren’t otherwise occupied. He’s too big to take all of him, but I usemy hands to make up the difference. When he threads his fingers through my hair and begins to gently guide my movements, I can’t help but moan against his length.
“Shit,” he grits out, pulling away. “Fuck. If you keep that up, this’ll be over before it starts.”
“Hair trigger?” I ask innocently as I accept his hand up.
He smirks. “Take pity on me. It’s just been me and my hand for nearly two years, and I’m about to be inside my mate for the first time. A wolf can only take so much.”
“That’s okay,” I tease. “There’s always next time.”
“And every day for the rest of our lives, if I have my way,” Chase growls, caging me against the wall until his solid chest is all I can see.
Suddenly, I can picture it so clearly in my mind: our whole future wide open in front of us. Endless days of teasing each other and making love. Maybe it’ll be a snowier future than I once pictured for myself, but that just means more time spent tangled up in blankets and sharing body heat.
“Do you want this, Anna?” Chase asks, snapping me out of my reverie.
