Page 6 of Wolves in Lust

But she only gave him a teasing smile. “I really should go wash my hands.” She held them up. Despite trying not to make a mess and wiping her hands on countless napkins, sauce lingered yet on her fingers.

He grabbed her nearest hand and shoved her index finger into his mouth. He sucked hard, and she reached behind her to hold onto the table and steady herself. Now he was the one to maintain eye contact as he sucked off the sauce from the rest of her fingers. Once done with that hand, he gestured for the other.

By this point, Misti was ready to do anything for this man. The way her body reacted to him was unbelievable. Was he a lone wolf without a pack? The Wild Shades had moved away roughly five years back. Could he belong to them? Whatever his story was, she almost didn’t care.

All she needed right now was to feel his body against hers.

After he sucked her thumb on her second hand, he pulled her toward him. “How about we get out of here?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, too drunk on arousal to think of anything else to say.

4

Anders couldn’t help but notice the couple sitting at the table behind theirs watching him as he sucked on his she-wolf’s fingers. The woman whispered to her guy, “Why don’t you ever do that to me?”

“They should be doing that in private,” her date said.

Oh, we will.

His she-wolf was trembling. She was trying not to show how affected she was by him, and his lips and tongue, but he could tell. Her breathing was heavy, her pupils were enlarged, and the scent of her arousal was enough to drive him mad. His cock twitched as a sigh escaped her parted lips.

He pulled her to him. “How about we get out of here?”

“Yes,” she all but begged.

Hand in hand, they maneuvered through the crowded bar around tables and people standing about. She kept up with him easily as he power-walked the two blocks to his bike.

“A motorcycle.” She smirked. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“Darling, there’s nothing cliché about me.” He handed her his helmet. “Hold on tight.”

“You’ll like that too much.”

“With how I drive, you’ll want to hold on. You’re about to get the ride of your life.”

Anders climbed on, and she slipped on behind him. She squeezed her arms around him, but before he could start up his bike, her hands roamed down his shirt to his jeans.

“I do like rides,” she whispered in his ear. Her tongue darted out and licked his neck.

He had to get out of these jeans. His cock was about to burst.

He took off, flying down the road. The hotel he was staying in wasn’t too far at least, and ten minutes later—ten nerve-wracking minutes later, her hands had been feeling his shoulders, up his shirt to palm his abs, and rubbing his upper thighs—he parked.

Without a word, he grabbed her hand and darted inside. The elevator here took forever, so he opted for the stairs instead. When he opened the stairwell door, she slammed it shut behind them, pushed him back against the wall, and pressed her lips against his. Her lips parted easily for his tongue, and he drank in her kiss. Damn, she could kiss.

All too quickly, she pulled away and rushed up the stairs. “What floor?” she called over her shoulder.

“Fourth.” He tore after her. By the second floor door, he’d reached her, and he slapped her ass. A fine ass, firm. Perfect.

She gave the tiniest of whelps.

He smirked. “I bet you’re a screamer.”

“Only when I orgasm.”

“Do you find that most guys don’t satisfy you?”

“Here’s hoping tonight is different.”