2: Leer - Pack Takeover (5 page)

Chapter Five

When I was done coming, I just kind’ve threw my arms wide, closed my eyes and said, “Oh, my God! I’ve never experienced that before.”

Leer’s head came up. Maybe he wasn’t done. He was still down there, after all.

Sniffing?

For all the sucking and lapping, I felt as wet as hell down there.

Leer…leered with wolfish humor. “I aim to please.”

“Jeez. That tongue of yours should be registered in Guinness.” It’s not like I was an expert or anything, but it
was
good. Phenomenal.

I could feel his fingers--gently touching the folds of my labia. Probing.

His golden gaze, a frown on his lips--concentration, I think… he asked, “How many men have you been with?”

I shrugged. Honestly, I was still in that euphoric state. I didn’t want to think.

I felt his tongue again. I had to smile. He was never gonna quit--and that was fine by me.

He must’ve pressed my honesty button from the inside or something. I said, “Well, there was this one guy…in school. But that wasn’t very good.” He didn’t really get
in
, if you know what I mean. No prep. No foreplay. One dry push. It hurt. I made him get off of me.

Leer said, “I’m big.”

Now he was getting to cock conversation?

I kind of laughed. “Don’t brag now.”

He chuckled. “You’ve seen it. How would you categorize it?”

I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if I should cater to his ego--which would simply be telling the truth--or point out the fact that he hadn’t put the damn thing where the money is.

My lips twisted in amusement. It didn’t matter that I had just been pleasured beyond sanity. We weren’t discussing his tongue, were we?

“I would categorize it as…” I clicked my tongue, prolonging his wait. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked.

He did too.

It was dripping again, hard--as it had been the whole time.

“Ready to go, I guess.”

His gaze swept over me. “What can I say? I like what I see?”

By now, I knew what he really liked--my scent. I said, “It’s my smell that turns you on. You can’t fool me.”

He chewed on his lower lip. He reiterated, “I like what I see.”

I wondered, briefly, why I wanted to taunt him with, “So fuck me.” I mean, I wasn’t some floozy. But jeez, it was like my libido was in overdrive.

Instead, I asked, “So, what’s next?”

“I’m going to….”

What? Suddenly shy? At a loss for words? I couldn’t believe it!

No. He was sorting through terminology. This wasn’t going to be the point where he got me pregnant. This was just to prove his self-control to me--the bitch he was trying to sweet-talk. I didn’t get it then. He had to explain a lot, later.

“I just want to…” He closed his eyes. “I’m going to…”

I reached up, moaned and pulled him down on top of me. “Just stop talking. You’re obviously not a man of words.”

We fit. That’s all I can say. When I reached for him, and he came to me, the head of his…manhood… landed right at the moist spot between my legs.

He groaned, buried his head at my throat, licked once and gave a little push.

I spread my legs, drawing my knees up, hoping to draw him up inside of me.

But the probe of his head at my crotch was a stretch. Thank God I was so wet. I never would have made it without the softening up he’d already done. It hurt, but he came into me slowly, feeling the way my muscles tightened--sensitive to every little grunt and groan I made--and the way I arched beneath him. Several times, he probably only made a centimeter’s distance and stopped.

His cheek against mine, I had to beg, “Tell me you like it this tight.”

He rewarded me with a growl, another buried lick along the lower part of my jaw, and a hard push. He was all the way in.

And trembling again.

Talk about the euphoria rising.

It was probably the smell of him sweating. I don’t care. I was freaking hot to go again, slickening up around him--squeezing him with my knees. It hurt. I wanted stroked, from the inside out. It’s hard to explain.

I’d forgotten what I asked. But he answered, “Oh yeah. I like it like this.”

And then he started moving. Oh my God! I was stretched. I was stroked. I was in heaven. Slow friction. Building pumps that slide all the way in, press hard against my pelvic bone--hitting my inner and outer g-spots. Grinding into me once he’s at the deep end, like he’s itching for a smidgeon more.

I told him, “If you keep that up…I’ll taste it all the way up into my throat.”

That sent him over the edge.

I mean, it skyrocketed his adrenalin and everything. He started pumping furiously, sweating profusely. But I’m telling you--this wolf sweat--it's like nothing you ever smelled before. It cranks up the inner body heat. It...makes you insatiable.

I heard myself spurring him on. I remember thinking it was like I was somewhere else--in a tunnel or something. I could hear my words echoing, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.
Do
it!”

He grunted into me. I know he was gritting his teeth, holding back the growls--wanting to finish it like a man. Like the masturbation and tongue teasing, it didn’t take either of us long.

I don’t remember when exactly I wrapped my legs around him, but I was definitely hanging off of his body while he was doing this to me. And I think that made it harder for him--like I instinctively knew how to tease him.

He didn’t just collapse on me like a lump of sweaty clay, either.

When he was done coming--during which he turned his face up to the ceiling--I think it was all he could do not to howl--he sat there, on all fours, with me hanging like a monkey beneath him, for the space of several minutes. And then he lifted me, ran his hands down the back of my body, like he was making sure I was all in one piece, and then he rolled.

Drawing me close to his chest, actually draping me over him like a fur blanket or something, half across his body, he snuggled me to him. It was very sweet. His arm kind of enfolded me, made me feel safe. I know he kissed my head. It made me smile to myself, wiggle my cheek against his pec, moan a little.

I have to say--it is the craziest thing. I know I keep saying that. But this sweat, this physical aroma--it is an addiction. The minute I gave him that little kiss, I started to swoon again. And I’m thinking--what the hell? Am I trying to catch up to the rest of the world in one stupid little night?

You bet I was. I
was
insatiable.

You could call it the night of my awakening. I never knew how much I could get into licking, but that’s when I took it up. Right then and there. Licking, sucking, kissing. One after another, they blended into each other. Before long, I think it probably sounded like I was having an orgasm. I know I groaned into his body time and time again.

I felt his fingers gently coaxing me, encouraging me--but not pushing. It was like--he couldn’t fight it, didn’t want to. So he let me. He sighed a few times. I kissed my way down and over his belly. When I got to the washboard, I felt him stiffen his arms. That gave me pause.

Turning my head, I looked at his maleness. Now, you can say what you want. He should have been limp and worn out, andnd I think it was, for a few minutes there. But I lay there with my head on his abdomen, breathing toward it, and it was like it came to life. The swelling was visible. Throbbing became apparent.

I pursed my lips, grinned, and thought,
I wonder what will happen if I really blow?

I tried it out. I sent a little warm air toward it. Just a little puff. It rose up, just for a second, almost like it was seeking the wind.

Leer moved his legs. He asked with a chuckle, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just--laying here.”

I stuck out my tongue, running it idly over the little tease of hair that curled up from the thing toward his belly button. His manhood rose again.

Leer chuckled and rubbed over the spot without thinking. “Quit teasing me.”

“You like that?” My head popped up.

He closed his eyes. “Yeah. I like that.”

“What? Blowing or licking?”

He shook his head a little, grinning. I know his eyeballs were rolling under the lids. “Both.”

“Leer?”

“Yeah?” He peeked at me.

“I don’t sleep around.”

He closed his eye. “That’s good to hear.”

I said, “Not that you’re gonna wanna come back again or anything.”

His whole body tensed. His toes even curled for a minute or two. Eventually, he said, “Who says I don’t wanna come again?”

I giggled.

He didn’t get his own joke.

I said, “No. I mean--there’s no obligation. Ya know?”