It was actually one of the gentler kisses he had ever given her, but Chloe felt like she was under sudden attack. His hands were everywhere, pulling down the frilly top of her prairie dress and palming her breasts when they spilled out. Then one was under her skirt, pushing two fingers into her soaking pussy, which going with the fashion of the day, had no barrier to protect it from his seeking hands.
His two fingers hooked inside of her, just as he pressed his calloused thumb against the bundled of nerves at her center. A white-hot spark of bone-aching need went through her and she arched against the tree, all vows of from-now-on-chastity suddenly forgotten. “Fenris!”
“Yea, declare my name,” he answered out loud in Old Norse. Then he pushed into her head: “Do you know how you have taunted me with this smock? It did torture me to lie next to you in bed this winter, and now that the sun is bright overhead, you doth wear it outside our bed closet as well. If your were of a mind to drive me mad with lust, you have met your aim.”
Chloe couldn’t think to answer. Sparks crackled across her clit every time his fingers moved into her and she could feel an orgasm blooming inside her womb. Then he took one of her breasts, which had become extremely sensitive in her second trimester, in his mouth, clamping his lips around the hard nipple.
And all her barriers came tumbling down as the orgasm rocked through her, making her cling to Fenris helplessly until she melted into a pool of jelly in his arms.
“I had forgotten how pretty you are in your pleasure,” he said. “I’ve a mind to see this look on your face again, but first…”
Again he moved so fast it put her in mind of a blitz. Her skirt was pushed up and her hands placed on the tree for her right before he entered her from behind.
As it turned out, getting taken as a woman in lust was even better than get fucked as a werewolf in heat. There was no mating knot now, which meant she was able to also feel every inch of his cock, thick and swollen inside of her, filling her up in every possible way as it slid in and out of her slick opening.
“That you would withhold this from me for so long. It is because of you I cannot achieve a warrior’s control right now.”
And as if to illustrate his point he began hammering into her, his damp skin slapping against her own until he went tense behind her and released. It was all so hot and happened so fast, Chloe felt herself struggling to keep up.
There was now the smell of their combined sex in the air, but still the now-familiar smell of her own arousal broke through that cloud like a tangible thing, insisting on making itself known.
“You have need of me again.” He chuckled. “I had a notion the intensity of our three moons in your Colorado was due to the mating frenzy. But I see my queen might have a lustier nature than I had originally thought.”
Chloe, who had put years into learning how to be more of a lady in order to be a good wife to Rafe, wanted to be embarrassed, but the sweet fire of aching need inside her refused to let her maintain her cool, especially when he began rubbing her clit from behind again, as if answering her silent prayer.
“Please, don’t stop,” she said out loud in English. She begged him. “Just please keep going.”
And maybe he understood her, because the next thing she knew, she was on her back and looking up at the blue sky as his words pushed inside of her head. “I will give you what you want. I will give you more than that. As you know, baths aren’t as plentiful in our time, because we don’t have the ‘running water’ as you do. But we do have our ways of keeping clean between soap days, especially after a joining. Mayhap this will be our lesson for this day.”
His tongue entered her pussy, hot and thick, lapping at her with such precise strokes it really did feel like he was cleaning her up in the dirtiest way possible. And soon another climax began to build inside of her, this one crawling through her, until it felt like every nerve in her body was alive with pleasure. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth as if it was one of the hard nipples on her breasts, and it was as if he’d flipped a switch inside of her. She came hard, screaming out her pleasure in English. The Viking continued to hold her most sensitive area sucked tight inside his mouth until she collapsed back into the ground fully spent.
“Oh, God,” she said, when he came to lie on his back beside her. “They probably heard me back in the village.”
She couldn’t see his face, but could hear the smile in his voice when he answered, “I did have the notion the hot spring might be far enough so the wolves of our village might not be able to hear. But as you know, werewolves have keen ears and you, my queen, are verily quite loud.”
She groaned. “I don’t mean to be. I don’t know what comes over me. I had thought it was because I was in heat back in Colorado, but I guess I’m just one of those people who’s loud in bed. I’m so sorry.”
His hand found her face and turned it toward his on the grass so she could now look into his amused gray eyes. “It is you who would embarrass with too much ease, my queen. And it is only because I did know this to be true beforehand that I sought a place so far from the village. No North wolf would be embarrassed to hear his mate announce her pleasure as you do.”
Her eyes darkened a bit, thinking of Rafe who she had apologized to for causing him embarrassment often in their seven years together, especially when she was rather clumsily learning which forks to use at the fancy wolf functions she attended as his fiancée. In fact, just a month before the Viking’s arrival, she’d spent what felt like an entire night apologizing to Rafe. First, she had apologized for wearing one of her homemade prairie dresses to a dinner party they threw for the visiting king of Alaska and his three daughters. Then she’d apologized for standing in the corner with the Alaska alpha’s middle daughter, Alisha, for nearly the entire pre-dinner drinks portion. There were way more Hispanic than black wolves in the United States, and Alisha, her sisters, and her mother, happened to be four of the very few she knew. Also, Alisha, being a history grad student, loved her Black Mountain Woman show and blog, so instead of mingling like they had both been supposed to, they spent the entire pre-dinner party cobbling together a version of how wolves might have lived in post-colonial Alaska.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said to Rafe when he all but dragged her away from the nerdy history professor.
Then she’d apologized again later that night for defending Alisha’s work as a history professor, when her mother started teasing her about not having an intended for her heat night yet. Correcting alpha queens really wasn’t done, especially by nobodies like Chloe, whose own status hadn’t been cemented yet with a heat night.