Ella Sinclair towered over me, his wolfish eyes glowing as he watched me wrestle with my feelings. I gnawed on my lower lip, searching for the courage to ask for what I wanted. He purred deeply, cupping my cheek and gently freeing my lip from my teeth. He didn't rush me, didn't make demands; he simply let me process my dilemma, preventing me from breaking my skin with my new fangs. His gentle affection gave me the confidence I needed, and I shifted closer, craving his steady strength.
"Can I please touch you?" I asked shakily, peeking up at him from beneath my lashes.
"Touch me where?" Sinclair replied, his deep bass voice vibrating through my body as his lip curled upward.
I felt as though I'd been doused in boiling water, and I was sure he knew it. "Here," I said, gesturing to the large, hard member between his legs.
"Uh-oh, trouble," Sinclair replied, stroking my spine with his free hand. "If you want to do it, you've got to give me the words. It's just you and me, angel. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Please, Dominic," I tried again, licking my lips. "Can I touch... your cock?"
Part of me wished the floor would swallow me whole, but the member in question pulsed as the word left my tongue. I was amazed to realize I had such a powerful effect on this man. He held the entire world in his palm, yet one word from me, and his body responded.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sinclair purred, gazing down at me with such pure adoration that I forgot my embarrassment. "Of course you can touch me, Ella."
I started slowly, tracing my fingers over his thick length and running my thumb over the purple head, curiously exploring the sinewy contours and feeling bolder by the minute. I could feel the muscles in Sinclair's chest and shoulders tense in response, but he didn't say a word. When I looked up, his eyes were on my face, not my hand. When I closed my fist around him, he smothered a satisfied groan. I pumped my hand up and down his considerable length, loving the way his hands tightened on my body. Sinclair hissed, dropping his head to the curve of my neck and kissing my throat, inhaling my scent. "Goddess, I love you," he murmured, his wolf emitting delightful grumbling sounds of contentment and desire. "My mate, all mine."
I gingerly dropped to my knees, genuinely shocked when Sinclair's tender affection shifted to sudden foreboding. He tangled his large hand in my hair, pulling my head back. "And just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded ominously, his dominance radiating from his massive form in powerful waves.
"I—I was going to use my mouth," I murmured, suddenly feeling unsure.
"I don't recall you asking permission," he answered, arching a skeptical brow.
My wolf quivered and roiled. I notched my chin up defiantly. "Can I use my mouth?" I said, my tone less a question than a challenge.
Sinclair's eyes flashed dangerously. He shook his head, calling my bluff. "Use it how? Do you want to kiss it?"
A wave of pure alpha power had me shuddering with submissive instinct. I knew exactly what he wanted to hear. If I weren't so drunk on passion, I might not have been brave enough, but I was beyond the point of no return. "Please, Dominic," I gasped deliriously. "I want to suck your cock."
He nodded in approval, guiding my lips to the flared tip of his manhood. "Go on then, beautiful." As I swiped my tongue over a bead of moisture, I reveled in the feeling of being complimented. For so long, comments about my looks only brought up my trauma, but I felt so safe with Sinclair that I was able to enjoy being admired for the first time in my life.
After lapping along his length, I closed my lips around the head of Sinclair's large cock, sucking in my cheeks and pulling him into my mouth. Sinclair hissed with pleasure, and I felt utterly powerful. It was one thing for such a formidable being to kneel for you; it was another entirely to bring him there through your own vigor—to make him lose control with a simple touch.
I slid my lips and tongue up and down his shaft, using every bit of skill to pleasure him. Maybe it was strange to be so turned on by an act that didn't offer me physical satisfaction, but I loved seeing how I affected Sinclair. His grip tightened on my hair, and I lifted my eyes to his, letting his gaze bore into me as I worked my mouth on him.
"Touch yourself, Ella," Sinclair commanded, his voice hoarse with barely restrained lust. "Spread that sweet pussy so I can see how wet you are for me."
I froze, thrown off balance by the idea of pleasuring myself in front of him. At the same time, my wolf urged me to be brave. It's what he wants, he's going to like it even if you're nervous.
Sensing my unease, Sinclair gave me a low purr of encouragement, and I slowly moved my hand to my swollen sex, unsure if I could go through with it. I'd never touched myself in front of anyone, and part of me was surprised Sinclair would ask for this. When I finally made contact, carefully parting my labia for him, he spoke as though he'd read my mind.
"That's it, baby," he groaned, his hips twitching with the effort of holding himself back. "This is the only time you get to do this. Your pleasure is my responsibility, so from now on I expect you to tell me if you need affection. But damned if I don't love seeing you make yourself feel good."
I quivered and sucked him harder, emboldened enough to play with my clitoris. I whimpered around Sinclair's hardness, and he pulsed against my tongue, clearly enjoying the vibrations. He was thrusting into my mouth now, beyond the point of holding back, so I increased my pace, intent on bringing him off.
Sinclair had both hands buried in my hair, and my excitement increased. I forgot my doubts, pleasuring myself as I would alone while he thrust into my mouth. I reached up to grip the base of his cock, squeezing tightly because I knew it was beyond the capacity of my small mouth. I worked my tongue over the underside of his length, rocking into my hand as I tried to focus on satisfying my mate over my own release.
After a few minutes, Sinclair tensed and swore, "Fuck, stop, or I'm going to come!" He attempted to pull himself free, but his admission only drove me to work harder. I ceased touching myself to focus all my energy on him. I surged forward, taking him into my throat and cupping his heavy balls, rotating them between my fingers.
Sinclair cursed again, fisting his hand in my hair as he exploded with a guttural growl. I swallowed him down, determined not to let him down. Sinclair shook his head. "Are you trying to kill me, woman?" he asked, pulling me to my feet.
I grinned up at him. "I owed you," I stated smugly.
"That's for me to decide," Sinclair answered darkly, cuddling me to his chest. "Naughty mate."
"It was only fair," I told him, snuggling in. "You've been taking care of me all this time and getting nothing in return."
"Well, you know what you've just done, don't you?" Sinclair inquired mischievously, caressing my waist as he nibbled my shoulder.
"What?" I asked, still flushed and squirming with my own need. Tomorrow I might be embarrassed about all the things I'd said and done, but right now my inhibitions were gone. As far as I was concerned, we were the only people in the world, and nothing else mattered.
"You just made it possible for me to last quite some time before I come again," he replied. "And that means I can completely devote myself to you without worrying about my wolf losing control."
A wave of anticipation and trepidation washed over me. I was already overwhelmed by Sinclair's plans for the night, but now it sounded as though he was even more determined to make my claiming as overwhelming as possible. I was excited beyond belief, but I was also anxious about whether I could cope with his fierce passion.
Sinclair was watching me again, a wolfish grin stretching over his features. "What's wrong, little mate? You look nervous."
I gulped in a deep breath, trying to appear tougher than I felt. "Well, you're wrong. If anything, I'm wondering what's taking you so long?"
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. In an instant, I had a huge alpha looming over me, and I'd just questioned his devotion and virility—a recipe for disaster.
Whoops.