Gone with the Wolf - By Kristin Miller Page 0,61

lips didn’t move.

Her eyebrows pinched. “How—”

“Call it another benefit to becoming a werewolf.”

“You can hear my thoughts?” She was in trouble now.

“Only when you project them.” He kissed her the way she’d always dreamed of being kissed. Like he’d die without her. Like he needed her more than the breath passing his lips. “The inner workings of your brain will remain yours.”

“Thank God.”

She’d never felt more full of life, and love, than she did at this moment. As Drake began to knead her rear once more, Emelia fell back into a slow, seductive rhythm. It didn’t take long before kisses turned heated, playful nips turned to bites, and Emelia was slammed back against the steering wheel so Drake could ravish her breasts.

He drove his hand between their bodies, and when he reached her silken heat, he teased her, lightly circling his fingers where she ached and tingled and wanted more pressure. He played her as though her body was an instrument…one he was skilled at strumming. Her muscles seized. Her body trembled. He increased the swirling tempo of his fingers as her hips rolled, leading her toward the blissful release she so desperately craved. The pressure in Emelia’s core gathered into a white-hot ball of ecstasy, building, cresting, and then—she exploded, rising and falling in brilliant white light. Her vision blurred, her toes curled, and her hamstrings cramped.

“Drake…” His name rushed out of her, and before she knew it, she was thrown into another orgasm that was more powerful than the first. The pleasure was so great, she cried out over and over again, Drake’s name ripping from her throat uncontrollably.

“Emelia,” Drake breathed. “You’re mine. Forever.”

“Yes.”

As Emelia’s center gave a final, fading pulse, Drake clenched, going rock-hard from jaw to cock. He gripped Emelia’s shoulders as his hips rose in a final resounding push. When his orgasm hit, he stared deep into Emelia’s eyes and surged into her over and over again, filling her with warmth.

Finally, they stilled. Rain continued to fall, dusting a cool mist over their weak, spent bodies. Emelia let her arms fall to her sides and her chest rested against him…her husband. Is that what Drake was considered now? She’d have to ask him if the same titles applied in his pack.

Drake wrapped his arms around her tightly and exhaled. The sound of soft music wafted from the speaker next to Emelia’s ear. The movie had ended and the credits were rolling.

“You were right,” she said, struggling to catch her breath. “That was a great movie.”

He stroked her hair. “Best I’ve ever seen.”

“By far.”

Using two fingers, Drake tilted Emelia’s chin to him. His eyes shone with more love and awe than Emelia deserved. How could she have been so stupid as to deny her feelings before? She loved this man through and through.

“Want to watch it again?” He winked, causing her heart to stutter.

“This time,” she said, “let’s watch it at your place.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Do you pull all-nighters often?” Emelia asked as they pulled into a Starbucks in Beacon Hill, a quaint area in southern Seattle.

“Not usually.” He zipped through the drive-through, stopping when they reached the order sign. “But tonight’s a special occasion. There’s something I want to show you.”

Doing a little dance inside, Emelia checked the time on the dash. 5:00 a.m. She may have been used to staying up late, but even this was pushing it. Surprisingly, she wasn’t tired. Not with Drake sitting beside her, massaging her thigh, gazing at her like he wanted to do naughty things with her in the backseat…if only Roadsters had backseats, damn it.

As Drake rolled down the driver’s-side window, Emelia leaned across the center console and peered at the glowing sign. Drake’s body radiated heat, his chest resting against hers, his breath coating her ear in a deliciously warm wave.

“Welcome,” a male’s voice greeted, much too chipper for the early hour. “What can I get you?”

“A grande—” Emelia yelped as Drake’s palm patted the round of her backside and his teeth grazed her ear. “Stop that.” Emelia glared into Drake’s mischievous eyes. Her chest warmed and her blood quickened its rush through her veins. “I’m sorry,” she said into the speaker, leaning further over the car’s stick shift. “I’d like a grande quadruple—”

“I’d like to give you a quadruple shot,” Drake whispered, then spanked her with a loud smack!

Emelia screamed as she lurched forward, then fell back into her seat. “Do you want me to order or not?” she said, unable to fight the laughter bubbling within