He said he wanted me to beg, right? As humiliating as that is, I’m desperate enough at this point. Anything that gets his tongue back on me.
“Please, Daddy,” I said, and I knew my entire face was beat red. “Please touch me again. I want to feel you.”
Griffin’s eyes lit up but that same sadistic smile remained. “Do you? I don’t think you’re begging hard enough, little fox.
You were such a little brat earlier tonight. Telling me you didn’t have to ask permission for anything. Is that still true?”
Of course, he has to bring that up. What a dick!
Averting my eyes, I managed to whisper, “No.”
That must’ve been good enough for Griffin because he gave a pleased hum and began moving his tongue back over my clit. Immediately, I let out a loud moan. As turned on as I was, every brush, every movement of his soft tongue felt like he was lighting my nerves on fire.
“Keep making those noises, little fox,” he ground out, “I want the entire castle to hear you.”
Another time, that thought might’ve sent me down a rabbit hole of wondering if the entire castle really could hear me, but right now, all I could think about was reaching my climax. So, he didn’t have to tell me twice. Loud moans escaped my throat before I could even think about reeling them back in.
This second time, it took even less time for Griffin to bring me to my edge. I tried to be quieter this time, less obvious about the fact that I was close. If I could just get a little more pressure, then
He stopped. I couldn’t suppress the whine as he left me aching again.
“I told you,” he said, “I’m the one who controls when you get to come. Don’t think you can get away with being sneaky like that. I sense everything, little fox – the way your breathing picks up when you’re close, how your heart speeds up.”
Damn werewolf senses.
“Please,” my back was arching off the b*d, but there was no way for me t o get friction. “Please. Please. Please, Daddy.” That last part sl*pped out, but I was far too desperate to feel embarrassed about it. I was already begging him.
Griffin hummed again like he was thinking it over. I didn’t need to have my eyes open to know he had that same sadistic grin on his face. This bastard was loving every second of this.’
He didn’t answer verbally, but his tongue started running stripes down my clit and l*ps again. The third time, it barely took a minute for him to work me close to the edge. My skin felt hot and sticky and my back felt strained from the way
I’d been arching off the b*d. This time, I didn’t even bother trying to bypass his rules. This was Griffin’s game, and he’d already proven twice that he could outmatch me every time.
“Please, Daddy,” my voice was a mixture between some sort of whine and a moan, “Can I come?”
‘There was silence for a moment, and I wondered if he was really going to deny me a third time – I wasn’t sure I could handle the aching pain of denial again.
“You can come, little fox,” he finally said, and then he continued swirling his tongue in just the right spot. I came undone almost immediately. The tangled knot in my lower belly uncurled, my breaths were nothing more than quiet moans, and I only felt rippling pleasure between my legs.
Whatever orgasm I’d ever had on my own didn’t compare to this one.
Those had been sad excuses for an orgasm ~ nothing like the continous pleasure I was experiencing now.
As I rode out the last of my orgasm, Griffin continued to lick every inch of exposed skin. It wasn’t like he was just sampling me – there was nothing hesitant about the way he lapped at my folds. No, he tasted me like he couldn’t get enough of me.
As soon as he’d had his fill of me, he moved up to cradle me against his chest, his gaze fixed on mine. Part of me wanted to hide my face from him. I knew I must’ve looked like a sticky, sweaty mess embedded into his sheets. I knew my hair was wild with frizz and the blue dress would need to be peeled off me.
But Griffin didn’t shy away from me. His gaze was full of something I’d rarely seen directed at me – pure, unadultered admiration.
“You’re so beautiful when you come undone for me, little fox,” Griffin reached forward to cup my jaw with his hand, “The way you look, the sounds you make – I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.”
Iwas still trying to recover from the aftershocks of my orgasm, so I didn’t have the energy to drum up any kind of intelligent response to his sweet words.
Luckily, he didn’t seem to need verbal answers this time. “Do you know what happens now?” he asked, and I felt his fingers stray down from my jaw.
Even the lightest touch of his fingertips seemed to leave my skin on fire, and when they reached the junction between my n*eck and shoulder, my skin practically sizzled. That particular area felt sensitive and even more attuned to his touch, like my b*dy was trying to call out to his.
“Now, I leave my mark on you,” Griffin answered, his dark eyes brimming with some sort of emotion I couldn’t recognize.
Something primal. As if to drive his point home, his fingers tapped the sensitive area between my n*eck and shoulder –
the traditional spot of a claiming bite. “And when I’ve done that,” he continued, “I’m going to make you my Queen.
Officially
“Time flies when you grow fangs and fur.” ?) Dianna Hardy
I was not ignorant about claiming bites. Although I had slept through plenty of werewolf education in my life, the lesson about claiming marks and bites wasn’t one of them. It was a hard lesson to miss, especially when I was used to seeing the evidence on every mated female wolf I saw.
Claiming bites were just that – bites that represented the claim of a wolf on another. It was standard practice for male wolves to leave them on their female mates, and in cases of same-s*x mates, the dominant wolf would leave one on the submissive wolf. Even learning about it in school, I’d never liked the practice.
It had always felt so one-sided to me. Just another way for male wolves to show their mates off like property, even parade them as such. The female wolf never got to leave her mark on the male wolf, she could only ever wear the mark. I
At school, the female wolves used to gossip about what it would be like to wear their soul mate’s claiming mark. To them, it was an honor. They didn’ once they’d met their mates and gotten their marks, every mated just accept the display of possessiveness, they wanted it. And woman I’d known had bore her bite proudly.
T’d seen the evidence countless times – most notably on Luna Grace. It wasn’t always visible around the house, but whenever she interacted with pack members, she’d wear shirts or dresses with low collars that left my dad’s mark visible.
You could always the indent of his teeth, the exact spot he’d sunk his canines into her. The mark had obviously scarred over but it never faded. It always seemed to shine in the light and even more on full moons.
I didn’t understand the werewolf biology that went into claiming bites perfectly. They all looked like bite marks to me, but to a wolf, it was supposed to smell like your mate, It was irrefutable evidence that you were taken and claimed by someone else.
So, when Griffin brought up the idea of claiming me, I practically bristled. My brain barely registered the second part of the sentence – the part about me becoming his Queen. I could freak out about that later.
“You want to claim me?” I gaped at him, “Like with a claiming bite?” He was splayed out beside me, hair tousled and half the buttons on his dress shirt undone. I could hardly blame him for his disheveled appearance ~ after the way he’d just eaten me out, I was sure that I looked ten times more discombobulated.
“Is there another way you’d prefer me to claim you?” Griffin asked, his eyes shining with amusement. “I suppose I could get you a cute little collar if you’d prefer. Maybe one with a bell -“
“No,” I cut him off. The picture that my mind conjured up was definitely humiliating but not completely awful. But certainly not a realistic way that I’d ever want anyone in the castle, even the werewolf world, to actually see me.
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