Page 116 of Fire Dancer
My wolf howled at the sensation of all myhardagainst all hersoft.
“Definitely need to check the joints.” My voice went all hoarse.
Good thing I wasn’t a singer. Besides, it was Pippa’s voice I wanted to hear, preferably loud and throaty as she called my name. That way, we could check the acoustics too.
To hell with acoustics,my wolf growled.Let’s get this show on the road.
My hands were already roaming, working out a plan. Her shirt off first or mine?
“Yours,” she breathed, reading my mind. “Definitely yours.”
The second it fluttered to the floor, she zeroed in on a nipple and circled it with her tongue, then nipped.
I hissed, all the while making mental notes. Pippa was giving me a blueprint for what she wanted when our roles were reversed.
She was wearing an old flannel work shirt of mine over a tank top and bra, and it was a lot more fun to take the flannel off her than myself. Her top and the bra followed soon after.
Pippa threw her head back with a moan when I swirled my tongue around the tight beads of her nipples, then hissed in need when I nipped.
“More…” she whispered. “More…”
I slid a hand lower, and she spread her legs wider, breathing hard.
When I paused and looked over my shoulder, she growled.
“You arenotstopping now.”
“Just checking for open flames.”
We’d learned the hard way that her fire-wielding powers peaked when she was worked up. But power didn’t always comewith control, so I had a good look around for safety’s sake. No candles, no fire in the hearth. Not even a pilot light in the stove. It would be a shame to burn the barn down now.
The pause put us at a good juncture to strip her out of her jeans and me out of mine. The moment I kicked them aside, we hurried back to checking the structural integrity of the counter.
“Yes…” She pushed forward as my fingers parted her folds, then slid in.
She danced against my hand, making my wolf howl.
“Ingo…” she moaned, clutching my hips.
Seconds later, I filled her, inch by hot, straining inch.
Pippa made a sound that was half sigh, half growl.
The counter wasn’t wide enough for her to lie back, so she slung her arms around my shoulders and pushed her hips forward, meeting every thrust.
Red-hot embers sparked in her glazed-over eyes. My vision blurred as a primal beat drummed in my veins.
There,my wolf rumbled greedily, eyeing her neck.Right there…
I licked my lips, watching her pulse tap against her skin.
“Here,” she murmured, brushing a hand over that exact place.
Apparently, she’d had the same thought at the same time.
A mating bite.
For a wolf shifter, the urge was instinctive. Pippa knew all about it, having grown up around wolf shifters and other supernaturals. We’d even talked about it — fantasized, really — years back, but we’d known the time wasn’t right.