Werewolf Wedding(13)

“Yup.” He laughed too. “Werewolf.” He wiped the sour cream off his chin and then licked it off his finger.

The next kiss was slower, harder than the one before. His strength pushed my head backward until I felt the wood of my chair’s headrest against my ponytail, and then he pulled me up and out of it.

Our lips fought, clashed, our tongues wrestling for position as he pushed me backwards, and when I hit the wall of my open concept living-dining room, my breath was already gone – there was none left to be knocked out. I whimpered softly, and bit at his tongue Jake sucked my bottom lip, nipping and letting his teeth clack together when he pulled away.

“Howling at the moon, biting our mates, fighting over territory,” he whispered.

If I died right that second, it would have been just fine. Except... then I would have missed the rest of what happened.. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?”

I went for another kiss but he turned ever so slightly. I managed to run my lips along the side of his neck and down to where his flannel shirt hung open. Heat bubbled inside me, like he was transferring his body’s warmth into mine.

He just laughed as I licked a slow path down the cords in his neck and to where his collarbones ended and his pectorals began. I curled my fingertips against the backs of Jake’s arms, and he threw his head back to let me kiss lower on his chest. For some reason I bit the button on his shirt, and it fell open. I smiled as I buried my face against his skin, biting gently and kissing him again.

“Harder,” he whispered. “Bite harder. Wolves like it when you get rough.”

I scoffed another laugh. “You and the werewolf thing. What’s next, you’re going to tell me you’re half vampire?”

That time, he didn’t laugh, but he didn’t say anything else either, mostly because he was too busy clutching me to his chest and moaning as I sunk my teeth into his burning hot flesh. “But seriously,” I whispered in between kisses sucked on his skin. “How do you move so fast?”

The grin he gave me would have melted the panties off a frozen cavewoman. If they, you know, wore panties. “But seriously,” he said in a slightly mocking, but mostly playful, tone. “I already told you. Not my fault if you don’t believe the truth.”

With his hands sliding up underneath my flimsy, old Freddy Mercury emblazoned t-shirt, and his lips warming first my neck and then my collarbones and then slightly lower, I got all confused and immediately forgot all about the damn wolf stuff.

“Bite me again,” he growled. “And don’t treat me like a baby, really get in there after it.”

Because I’m me, I took that as a challenge more than just pillow talk. I was still reeling slightly from his kissing and sucking, but I grabbed his shirt and went to unhook the next button. My lips brushed his chest, then one of his nipples when I pulled his shirt away from his skin. But then, I got an idea.

Biting my lip, I looked up at Jake’s face, snarled a little, and ripped at his shirt as hard as I could, trying to pop those damn buttons right off. It... didn’t go as planned.

The first button popped, but I grossly underestimated the strength of flannel. “Son of a bitch,” I snarled, pursing my lips and trying again. “Is this made out of woven steel?”

I pulled again, this time the fabric got a runner and split a little, but nowhere near enough for me not to look like a jackass who couldn’t rip some flannel. Jake quirked a smile at my dismay, but then he nodded and placed his hands on top of mine. “Let me help,” he said.

Straining so hard that it looked like his eyes might pop out, Jake grimaced and grunted. “Maybe you weren’t wrong,” he said with a little laugh. “This is... hnnnng! God almighty! How hard could it be to rip a cotton shirt apart?”

“You’re joking,” I said in disbelief. “Really?”

He started sweating. “This is ridiculous. I mean, I do my gym time and all that, but... maybe it’s the big meal making me weak somehow, but... okay,” he took a big, dramatic breath. I’m almost certain I didn’t believe him, but he was putting so much effort into play acting that I didn’t want to ruin his attempt at winning an Oscar.

Or maybe I was totally caught up in it. Either way.

“Here I go,” he said. “This... is going to hurt.”

With a triumphant shout that I could almost imagine being accompanied by a John Williams soundtrack, Jake tore through his shirt, ripping it straight down the middle, buttons popping off every which way.

“Wow,” I said, gawking at him. “That was... certainly something.”

“I might have been playing it up a little,” he said.

The grin that came showed up about a half second after I was kissing him again with my lips running down the line in the middle of his chest.

“You think?” I asked, laughing softly as I kissed him again, tasting his essence as it coursed through my veins. It seemed like he was penetrating me in some weird spiritual way. I felt my blood pump harder in my veins, my thoughts racing as my desire heightened.

“No,” he said simply. “No, no.”

I thought he was telling me to stop, but no, he was actually just about to lift me off my feet and literally actually carry me across the room and lay me gently on the couch. I wasn’t having any of that – as much because my couch squeaks like hell as anything else – and slid, languidly, to the floor. Thankfully my arms are almost freakishly long, because I was able to grab one of his pockets from my new position and pull him down to me.