Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,59

sweater. She arched back and severed their kiss, then slipped the sweater over her head, exposing a black lace bra that Drake wasted no time raking his fingers against.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words were fragments, pushed out breathlessly. “Perfect.”

Unable to hold back, Emelia dove into another kiss, slanting her mouth over his. As she slid to the edge of her seat and leaned into him, coiling her arms around his neck, Emelia realized it wouldn’t be enough. Her hand found his chest, traipsed down a set of washboard abs, and stroked the bulge in his jeans. He groaned in approval, his hips rising off the seat as his tongue swirled along hers.

Still. Not. Enough.

Desperation rising, Emelia tugged Drake’s sweater over his head and clawed her nails down the sculpted muscles of his chest. He hissed, forcing a quick breath of air through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, biting her lip as she gazed at the ridges on his stomach.

“Baby,” he said, his dark eyes burning with wicked intention, “you can’t hurt me.”

“Is that so?” She leaned over the console and clawed into the hard, muscular groove at his waist, then rubbed her hands over his slick, tanned skin. He bit his own lip and let his head drop back onto the headrest. With her other hand, Emelia stroked his bulge harder, writhing as her own desire spiked, drenching her panties in warmth.

Creating friction over their clothes wasn’t going to cut it. They were beyond that.

In a fevered rush, Emelia kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her pants. She shuffled out of them, panties in tow, and flicked them onto the floorboard. Drake followed her lead, unzipping his pants and jerking them down along with his boxers. When Drake leaned back into the seat, his erection bobbed against his stomach, its thick head swelling over his belly button. She’d never wanted to take a man in her mouth this way—it had never been her thing—but now, she couldn’t think of anything else.

She wanted to pleasure him like he’d pleasured her the last time they made love.

“Ever have sex in a car, Drake?” Emelia asked, wetting her lips.

He smiled slyly. “Not with you.”

“Clever man.” She bent over and took the hard length of him in her mouth, then pulled back and licked the tip. He trembled—it was a tiny, quivering movement, but she caught it. “You always know just what to say.”

He sucked in a shocked breath as she worked her tongue around his head and massaged the base of him with her hand. He moaned. Thrust his hips gently in time with her strokes, and when his torso went rigid, Emelia knew she had him right where she wanted him. As if Emelia’s body could sense Drake’s rising pleasure, her chest tightened and her breath hitched. She was all sensation, crazed and drawn tight. She was ready to ride him, aching to let him fill her with his seed. She was ready to explode. One touch and she’d come apart.

Using the steering wheel and the back of Drake’s seat for balance, Emelia moved from her seat to Drake’s lap. Her knees barely fit on either side of him, but they fit enough. She situated herself over him, feeling their sexual chemistry spark across her skin.

“Did you bring protection this time?” She suckled his earlobe into her mouth.

He groaned and skated his hands up and down her back. Groping greedily at her hips, Drake said, “Diseases don’t pass from werewolves to humans, though I’m clean anyway, and you have to be like me—I mean, you have to have shifted into a werewolf already—to be able to get pregnant.”

“Really? I get to feel you skin-to-skin?” Slowly, she wriggled her core over his tip, and latched her arms around his neck. “You just made my day.”

“Hell, woman, you just made my life,” Drake said, unsnapping her bra, slipping it off her shoulders and flinging it onto the passenger seat. “I want to be inside you so bad. Tell me I can make you come this way. Give me the words, baby.”

Odd as it was, Emelia was beginning to like the whole “asking permission” thing before sex. Although she could never imagine an instance when she’d turn Drake down, it was empowering to know that he respected her enough to ask first.

“I’ll give you any words you want. Take me hard. Right now. Is that what you want to hear?” She impaled herself over him, groaning in time with Drake as his head