Page 50 of Runaway Wolf
“Nah. I’m taking Joaquin’s room.”
“Wait. Where does that leave me? Alex gave up his room.”
Misty stretched. “Go upstairs to Noah’s.”
“No way.” Joaquin raised an eyebrow, then jerked his head toward Caitlin and Isaac. “There’s another couple down the hall. We’ll share. Put a wall of pillows between us, Misty-mine.”
“Stop calling me that. Weirdo,” she grumbled. “And don’t cross the damn wall.”
Caitlin was about to ask why Misty didn’t stay in her room, but then she remembered that was the room she was in. And everyone knew she was going to sleep in Isaac’s tonight, butshe wasn’t quite sure where that left her. Would he want her in his room every night? Would he want her to go back to the guest room—err, Misty’s room? Where would she want to be?
She stopped thinking as they climbed out, but noticed that Joaquin let Misty climb out first, and blocked the view of her backside by positioning himself behind her. Huh. Probably just wanted an eyeful for himself.
“And then there were two,” Isaac whispered in her ear. One hand reached up to cup her breast, but he left his other over her sex.
She wanted to turn and straddle him, but that would make him drop his hands from her and quite frankly, it felt too good. She felt possessed by him and that was okay. She liked being owned by him.
“You think it’s going to be cold when we get out?”
“Nah. Our temperature is up from being in the tub. We’ll just grab a towel and head up to our room, sweet wolf.”
Our room. There it was. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but wolf was practically frothing at the mouth over the thought. So, the human part of her would just set aside that confusing thought for now. She would live and enjoy the moment.
There was such freedom in being a nudist. It wasn’t something she ever would have thought about as human, but it seemed quite natural as a shifter. It didn’t feel sexual… unless it was her and Isaac alone.
And alone they were. She felt like a siren when she rose from the pool, droplets clinging to her skin as she slowly climbedthe steps to him. He held a towel out for them and his gaze grew heavy lidded as he examined her nudity.
“You’re a fucking goddess.”
Instead of wrapping her in the towel, he pulled her close to his wet body, and enclosed it around both of them. He gave her the end to hold, and then he lifted her to wrap her legs around his waist.
She loved this. She loved being owned by this man.
He wasn’t even out of breath as he hiked up the stairs with her, her open sex rubbing against his body. Between them, his magnificent cock pressed against her.
She dropped the towel when they entered the bedroom and then it was just him and her, and a whole lot of naked, heated skin. He smelled of fur and pheromones and her inner wolf just wanted to lick him all up. She wanted to pounce on him, to ride his cock until they both howled with pleasure.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. His tongue dueled with hers, seeking, giving, wanting. Somehow, she was on the bed under him but that wasn’t where she wanted to be. So, she rolled over, and straddled him, and when he reached for her, she slapped his hands away.
Surprised, he laid back, hands behind his head, and watched her.
She moved down his body, licking, nipping, kissing, sucking. Each defined ab. The sexy cut of muscles at the sides of his hip.
The beautiful, hard, red, veiny cock that dripped shiny liquid at the tip. One swipe of the sweetness made slicknesswet her inner thighs. He groaned when she swirled her tongue around the swollen head, when she kissed up the length, nuzzled her nose into the base where it jutted upward.
When she engulfed the whole thing in her mouth and swallowed him whole? His fist gripped the bedsheets and nothing in the world was sexier than a man barely in control.
“Caity,” he chanted, over and over, like a mantra. “Baby, ride me. We can do this later. There will be lots of laters. I just want to come deep inside you.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, and ran her tongue up his length again. His thighs were quivering under her palms.
“Baby,” he begged, and she loved that. She loved his pet name for her, she loved his control being at the begging point.
She climbed up on him, took him inside her, and then leaned down to kiss him. Over and over they kissed while she rocked on top of him.
Her entire body was wound tight as a clock, winding higher and higher until everything inside her exploded, clenching and gripping. She barely heard him shout her name as she collapsed onto his chest, but felt him quivering beneath her.
She reached for some tissues on the nightstand, cleaned them both up somewhat, and then collapsed onto his chest.
