Page 12 of One Night with the Werewolf
“Turn around,” he says in that gruff voice, and instantly, I’m even wetter. Just the way he talks cranks my dial. His tone brooks no argument, so I obediently turn around on the bed, falling forward onto my hands and knees.
I would have loved to suck his cock a little after what he just did for me, but something in Roscoe’s eyes told me we’re pastthat now. He’s almost… animalistic, if I were to pick a word. The way he climbs up onto the bed on his knees, panting heavily, hot breaths against my ass, I feel like a bitch in heat about to be mated.
I don’t think twice about it as a soft, rounded object slips between the folds of my pussy. I’m slick, and his finger opened me up enough that immediately, the head of his cock slides through.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, gripping the blankets as he asks me to open for him. He remains just barely sheathed in me, but the instant stretch is so glorious that I already need more.
“How’s that, Emelia?” Roscoe asks, sounding almost hoarse with need. “Do you like the feel of my cock?”
“Yes!” I don’t have to think before answering. “I love it. I need it.”
“You need it?” He pushes in a fraction deeper, then retreats. “Does this sweet little pussy want all of me?”
I nod feverishly. “Yes, please, Roscoe. All of you.”
Then I get my wish. He shoves himself in, sliding through me in one smooth motion, until he’s seated. I cry out as my whole body stretches to accommodate him, swallowing him up as fully as I can. And god, does he feel incredible, smooth and soft and yet firm in all the right ways. When he draws back, the sensation of his cockhead dragging along the inside of me almost makes my arms give out.
Damn, in just one stroke, he feels better than any man or woman I’ve ever been with. If only I could have seen his dick first, because itfeelsabsolutely beautiful. I bet it’s the prettiest penis on the whole planet.
He almost leaves me completely before plunging back in, not too fast, not too hard, but the perfect amount of everything. He stops before fully bottoming out, almost like he’s afraid of goingall the way. That thought, though, flees my mind as he starts to really use it.
He glides in and out, establishing a smooth pace that has me scrunching up the blankets under my hands and moaning into the pillow that used to be underneath my head. His hand smooths down my ass, squeezing my ass cheeks and examining them like he’s in no rush.
Is this what it’s like being with an older man? There’s no frenetic jerking, no hasty chase toward the orgasm. It seems like he’s purely enjoying it, burying himself in me and then sliding back again. He slows down for a short time, letting me feel every inch of him as his hand snakes over my hip and around me, then down between my legs.
When he brushes my clit, he speeds up. Oh god. No one’s ever done that to me during doggy style. Now he’s thrusting fast, making sure to angle up his cock as if he knows exactly where to find my G-spot.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” I find myself chanting as he brushes past that spot again and again, his fingers rubbing over my clit with the same steady rhythm as his hips are driving into me. “I’m going to come, Roscoe, I’m going to?—”
“Say my name again.”
“Roscoe!” I cry it out, because damn, it feels good to shout it. He groans behind me, then emits a sound that’s almost like asnarl.
“Yes, good girl,” he rumbles, bending over me as he continues working on my clit. Damn, his dirty talk is good, and his praise is sending me shooting up even higher. Every stroke of his cock, every glance of his thumb over my clit, is guiding me toward a light so bright it makes me squint. Pleasure is pulsing through every part of me, making all my muscles tighten, even my pussy.
“There we go.” Roscoe fucks me even faster now, setting a punishing pace that has me screaming. I roar toward my orgasm like I’m on a train that won’t stop, and soon I’m suspended in air, every bone and tendon in my body tensing to explode. “I want you to soak me again, Emelia. And scream my name while you come.”
So I do. Damn it, I do, my climax so blinding and deafening and powerful that it’s almost painful, all while I scream his name.
That’s when Roscoe lets out a noise I never would have expected: ahowl.
It’s not human, this sound, as I sense his cock growing inside me. Thicker and fuller it becomes, until I wonder if I might just come again. How does one man have this kind of power over me?
The howl echoes around the room as he slams in deep, one more time, and it’s almost like somethingbiggerthan his cock is trying to fit inside me. What does it, what sends me over the edge, is how much wider he is at the base, pushing my edges apart and hurling me into what can only be rapture.
I fall to the bed on my face, my legs wobbly as I try to stay upright for him. Roscoe is panting hard, his fingers clutching my ass so tightly that I can feel his blunt nails. He thrusts once more, and for the first time in my life, I canfeelhis hot cum as it spills out of him inside me.
Good thing I’m on the pill.
That thought registers a little late, but I have my excuses. I’m so spent, though, that I can’t even hold myself up any longer. Roscoe slides out of me as I collapse fully on the bed, and he lets out a sharp gasp.
“Damn,” he mutters, coming to rest on top of me, my back to his front. He buries his nose in my hair and inhales. “God, you smell good. My room’s gonna be covered in it.”
I shiver, enjoying the idea that I might leave my impression on this place, even if I never see it again.
And I have a feeling I won’t. Which is, in its own way, depressing. I had something wonderful and life-changing happen here, and there won’t be a redo.
Eventually, we roll over onto our sides so he’s not crushing me with his body weight. Finally, the booze is catching up to me, and I’m barely clinging to consciousness.
