Selene’s hand trembles visibly as she reaches out tentatively to touch the fur.
Fur. It is forbidden. Evil. Werewolves killed her family. Damn it. No. That is the wrong story. It wasn’t werewolves. Michael is part werewolf and he is no enemy.
She continues moving her hand until her fingertips brush the tips of the silvery hairs. Michael’s breath puffs warm on her face, relaxing her shoulders but making her heart race. She closes her eyes, focusing on the fur.
Little pinpricks turn to gentle caresses as she moves her fingers deeper into the fur. Silky, almost. Warm, but not heated. She drags a thumb through the fur now, losing herself in the sensation, pleasure thrumming through her hands to fill her body.
Michael tightens his hold on her hips, exciting her, but briefly pulling her out of the intensity of the experience. Her hands clench the fur and release as she exhales. She smooths the fur now, petting it, letting it soothe her, not worrying about its origin or meaning.
Wanting more, she leans into Michael and puts her cheek on the collar, relishing the feel of the fur on her skin. Selene pulls in a slow, deep breath through her nose, savoring the mingled scents of the cured leather, fur, and Michael. Leather is an old familiar smell, always comforting. She draws in another breath, savoring the musky aroma that evokes powerful animals and primal instincts.
Michael tips her head back a little to press his lips onto hers, soft and silky, but not like the fur her fingertips are flattened on. Selene relaxes. She welcomes Michael’s tongue when it flicks her lips open.
For a brief moment she thinks about pulling away, about stopping, but the silkiness of the fur and the spicy aromas combined with soft lips on hers brook no argument. Fingers deep in fur, head spinning with the mixed scents, Selene focuses on the pleasure at her fingertips that sends tingles through her body.
Michael’s hands leave her hips, leaving her feeling momentarily unstable, but then his hands are on hers, warm flesh contrasting with warm fur. He puts his fingers in between hers, feeling the fur with her. Selene moans involuntarily. Then she feels Michael’s fangs graze her tongue. Desire washes over her, she presses closer to him as she slides her tongue in further against his.
Tingling with arousal, Selene removes her hands from the silky fur collar and places them on his neck. A thrill runs through her when she touches tough leathery skin. Fingertips and hands already sensitized from contact with the fur, the contrast sends a shock through her. She barely registers Michael’s flinch at the touch of her cold hands as wonder compels her down to his chest, seeking more of the tough living flesh.
Rough, but smooth. Warm. Alive. Her blood sings. She wants to drink him up, sink into his flesh, but now is not the time.
Instead, she reaches for his groin. Her breath hitches when she feels Michael’s hard cock, warm beneath soft leather trousers. Desire ratcheted up, she grabs the belt loops and pulls him down, not caring enough to find a soft surface and unsure how much longer her legs will hold her. On the floor, she unzips Michael’s trousers. Now she can put her hands back on his flesh. She pulls on his trousers, he wriggles, and she wraps her hand around his hard cock.
Michael tugs at her shirt, distracting her. She moves down, a sudden desire to taste him. She flicks at the sensitive tissue with her tongue, drawing in a breath at the same time, aware of his musky scent, cousin to the leather he was robed in. She opens her mouth wide, careful not to graze him with her fangs, and sucks. Michael gasps, then moans deeply. His hands scrabble to reach for her, but she bats them away while she licks and teases him.
Her desire mounting, she unzips her own trousers and pulls them off. Wet, she is ready. Selene mounts Michael, thrilling at how he stretches her. She moves fast and furious, banging into him, taking her pleasure and then slowing so he can take his. Spent, she rolls off him and lies next to him, reaching for his hand with hers, linking herself to him.
She becomes aware that Michael’s breath matches hers, inhale and exhale. It is a heady feeling, being in synch with another creature like this, as though he were the gun body and she the well oiled barrel. They are powerful and lethal; an intoxicating combination.