Page 66 of Spellbound & Speechless
He’s different. I like both sides, but this is the one I crave.
Sex is an energy, and it’s one I choose to hone. It comes from him in waves now. It’s pure desire—an urge to fuck and fill.
“But I want you to come, sir.” I chase my release, rubbing my clit harder. “Need you to fill me.” I glance over my shoulder again, watching his face. “Breed me.”
His eyes flash red. The suggestion is an educated guess. Breeding kinks are common in werewolves, and considering how much he enjoys fucking me raw… well, it seems I was correct.
Which side of him likes it: the man or the wolf? Perhaps there’s no difference between the two. Gods, I wantboth.
He fucks into me harder, my eyes widening as he pushes deeper than before. “You want me to breed you? Is that what you fucking want?”
I cry and rub my fingers against my throbbing clit. “Yes!”
“Then you’d better come for me.” He snaps his hips against my ass. “I need that pussy clenching around me, taking in every drop.”
Tears prick at my eyes, and I know they’re from pleasure. “Please.”
His hand moves around my throat to pull me to his chest. I’m limp, going along with his every move.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. “You have the most beautiful voice. You sound like heaven when you’re crying for me. And your body…” He huffs, circling his hips, making me feel every inch.
My ears ring when I unravel. The rest of his praise goes unheard, but somehow it pushes me over the edge.
“Fuck.” He grunts as he spills into me, his hips jerking wildly. “That’s right.” His hand moves down to my belly, pressing. “That’s my good girl. Taking every drop in your tight pussy. Mm…”
When I collapse against him, I know he’ll catch me. He leans back onto his knees, and I sit there, chest heaving as I catch my breath.
His dick slips out of me, and I whine, but his fingers replace it. I let out a soft sigh.
“Mac…”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing?”
“We’re not done.” He chuckles, his breath fanning overmy neck. “I need to make you squirt again. Need you to soak my face.”
“Gods… yes…”
This man is going to be the end of me.
Eventually,he helps me gather apples, and we return to the house. Mac allows me to climb onto his back and carries me inside, which is preferable to me hobbling around. I’m sore between my legs and dripping with his seed; it’s the most satisfying sensation.
It’s always quiet in the morning. Rowan is likely in meetings, and my sisters work so late.
I’ll need to refresh the silence ward in my bedroom. It’s been too long since I’ve had a use for it, but something tells me Mac and I will need it to be in working condition.
Once inside, I wash the apples and set them on the countertop, gathering a cutting board and a knife.
“Nope.” Mac pushes me away with his hips. “You make the batter. I’ll do this.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t trust me with the knife, do you?”
“No. I don’t.” He grins. “But I trust you with everything else in here, including the hot stove, so… get to work.”
Perhaps I should be offended, but considering that the cut on my finger is still throbbing, he has good reason for his mistrust.
“Fine…” I glare as I back away to the pantry. “Are you sure I can trustyou? You don’t seem like the type to cook.”
