Fuck, I want to pull those wet jeans off her, find out what color panties she’s wearing before I tear those down, too. But if I see her naked ass, there’ll be no holding back the beast. Even this mild contact over her clothing has me harder than a fucking rock and my teeth lengthening.
Since she didn’t freak, I keep spanking, hard slaps that echo off the Italian tile. “You hacked me, Catgirl?” I smack her again and again. “What were you-like twelve?”
“Fifteen,” she gasps. “I never took anything-I swear-ung.”
The last sound from her lips sounds too much like I’m fucking her instead of spanking, and my vision tunnels, my wolf clawing to take over.
I stop spanking, struggling to slow my breath. I keep my hand on her ass, because, well, the thought of not touching her kills me. “Just wanted to see if you could, baby?” Now that it’s set in, the fact that she’s Catgirl turns me on even more. This girl hacked me as a teen. She’s a fucking genius, and I’m swooning for her brains almost as much as her sexy little body.
My eyes meet hers in the mirror. Her face is flushed, eyes dilated and glassy. I reach around and cup her right breast, squeezing and pulling her back up against my chest.
“Bad girl,” I whisper in her ear, and she lets out the cutest little moan.
I have to fuck her. As in, I’m going to die if I don’t get my cock inside her now. I need to own her completely. Punish her with the roughest fucking of her life until she screams my name and learns I’m the only male who will ever crack her fucking code. Then I’ll start over again, slowly. Lick the pain away. Make her come over and over again until she weeps.
But I don’t trust my control around her, so I settle for flipping her back around, picking her up by waist, and plunking her down to sit on the counter. “Did you like your spanking, baby?”
“Y-yes.”
I love her honesty. I shove her knees apart and bring my thumb to the seam of her jeans, right over her pussy.
She arches into me and catches my shoulders, her head falling back. “Jackson…” she whispers.
I push the hard fold of fabric into her seam, rubbing up to her clit.
She jerks and lets out a needy cry. Her fingers come down and cover my hand, urging me to give her more.
My mental faculties slip away. I yank open the button of her jeans and lower the zipper, parting the two sides.
Matching panties. Red lace, like the bra. I knew it.
My satisfaction is short-lived because a storm of rage blows hot on its heels. “Who’s seen you in these, baby?”
“Wh-what?”
“Who has seen you in these cute-as-hell panties?” I get right in her face, teeth showing. “Who do you wear these for?”
She pushes at my shoulders, but, of course, I don’t budge. Human female strength against shifter alpha male? No comparison. “What gives, Jackson?” There’s real fear in her eyes, and it drops me like bullet. The flash of anger evaporates, replaced by the need to soothe and protect my female.
Shit. I already consider her my female.
I lean my forehead against hers. “Sorry,” I murmur. “Is it wrong to want to kill the guy you bought those for?”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re crazy.”
Because I’m a stubborn bastard, I wait, still wanting her to answer my question.
“No one’s seen them,” she mutters.
Holy hell, is she blushing? Maybe she’s more innocent than I thought.
“No one?” I’m unable to keep the incredulousness out of my tone.
She pushes again, but I’m back to my original purpose. With an arm wrapped around her waist, I pull her off the counter to stand, and delve my fingers into her pants and panties.
Hell, yes.
The moist heat of her core slicks my finger, sending a kick of lust through me so strong I have to drag in a sharp breath.
“Jackson.”
“Yeah.” She can call my name with that husky voice anytime.
I rub my middle finger along her weeping slit, spreading moisture up to the swollen bud of her clit.
I’m still pondering the blush. Is she embarrassed she hasn’t been with anyone recently? Considering the way she clings to my neck and moans the moment I touch her perfect little pussy, I think that’s a distinct possibility.
Some ridiculous male pride surges through me. I’m going to be the one to satisfy her. I force myself to slow down as I circle her clit, my free hand slipping around to grab her ass and pull her pelvis closer.
She grinds down over my finger.
“Greedy girl,” I murmur. If I had her panties off, I would have spanked her pussy, but the fit’s too tight.
Her breath stutters as I screw one finger inside her tight channel. I work the heel of my hand against her clit.
She rises up on her tiptoes and claws the back of my neck, fingernails scoring me like a female shifter marks her mate. My teeth sharpen in my mouth, and I clamp my lips closed to keep from marking her, myself.
Her pelvis undulates forward and back in greedy thrusts.
I work a second finger inside her. “You’re so. Damn. Tight.”
She stiffens slightly, even though I meant it as a compliment, but I stroke her inner wall and hit her G-spot.
Her muscles squeeze, and she grows even wetter. “Fuck… no… I mean, yes. Oh please!” She hangs from my neck, her breasts pressed into me as she pumps her hips over my fingers.
I feel like a pubescent wolf, ready to come in my pants. But this is for her-not me. I thrust in and out of her, letting my knuckles bump with force until she squeals and clamps her inner thighs together. Her internal muscles contract, and she comes all over my fingers in the hottest display of female orgasm I’ve ever seen.
I did that. My wolf grins with satisfaction.