Her Biker Wolf (Obsessed Mates 2)

He takes a big breath, and I feel it catch as he exhales. “You need to be careful, Maya. It’s real dark out here and you’re probably not used to it. But you don’t need to worry about anything happening to me. I’m a tough old wolf and I’m here to protect you.”

Protect me.

His words are like honey, flowing into my ears. And despite the freezing water, I realize I’m perfectly warm in his embrace.

“W-where were you?” I blurt out.

“Just swimming. When I heard a flying fish taking a leap into the water.”

I gulp out a laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” He swims me over to the deck and he lifts me onto it. Then he pulls himself out.

And my mouth falls open for the second time today.

Because he’s naked, of course. And there’s just enough light showing from the cabin for me to take in his magnificent, tattooed body. Huge, muscular arms, his thick waist, six-pack abs, massive thighs, and the cock that hangs like a fire hose between them. I’m too stunned at the sight of him to remember my manners and I gawk unashamedly. At the sight of his cock, my pussy begins to tingle again.

Which is crazy, because it’s far too big for me. There’s no way it would fit inside me.

If Forge notices my reaction, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he reaches for me, helps me to my feet. “Shower, then dinner,” he says, in a soft tone.

I feel limp, knocked sideways as I let him lead me inside and into the bathroom.

In a place this rustic, I was prepared for the shower to be no more than a pipe coming out of the wall, but there’s a new-looking showerhead, and when Forge stretches past me and turns it on, the water gushes out nice and strong.

The bathroom light is bright, and I don’t know where to look. Up, and I’m staring into his eyes, which have turned such an intense shade of emerald, they’re dazzling. Down, and there’s his massive cock. Not just hanging as it was a moment ago, but jutting out, and somehow even bigger than before.

He guides me into the shower, and ohh… he’s coming in, too.

It’s a small space, and he’s so close to me, I can hardly breathe.

I stand, frozen with a mixture of shock and desire, while he grabs a bottle of shower gel and squeezes it into his palm.

Then he begins to rub it all over my body.

Oh my god, I’m dead.

Forge’s huge, work-roughened hands, slick with shower gel, are running all over my arms, my shoulders, the back of my neck.

“Sorry, it’s a guy’s one,” he says of the fragrance.

“I like it,” I say. And I do, because it smells of him.

He instructs me to turn around while he washes my back. He kneads gently, working away at all those knots I’ve gathered in the past few days while I’ve been walking around Perdue Town. He moves down to my ass, rubbing my cheeks in gentle circles. Then he turns me back to him and soaps up my breasts. I bite my lip to stop myself from whimpering or moaning as his hands slide all over them, paying special attention to my nipples, instantly turning them to hard little beads.

Another blob of shower gel in his hand, and he crouches down and works at my legs, from my feet to my calves, then all the way up my thighs. He keeps edging toward my pussy, then slipping away at the last moment. The anticipation is driving me crazy.

Is he avoiding touching me there? Or is he teasing me?

If it’s the latter, it’s sure working. Before long, I’m about ready to beg.

Suddenly, his hand glides up all the way up. His big fingers rub back and forth along my labia, before slipping between them and sliding up to my clit. Then his other hand slithers between my ass cheeks and rubs up and down my cleft. Wow, I had no idea how sensitive that part could feel. When his fingertip circles around my little hole, I almost levitate.

Too soon, he pulls away and straightens up again. Then he takes the showerhead from the holder and brings it close, carefully rinsing all the soap away. The touch of his hand, then the jet of water on my delicate areas. What a mind-blowing combination. I feel myself getting wet again—a different kind of wetness from the water, though. Slicker, more slippery, my body’s way of getting itself ready for his cock—

No. Not possible. I might be naked with Forge right now; he may have licked my pussy and made me orgasm for the first time in my life. But I cannot mate him. I have to keep my promise to my mom.

He grabs another bottle from the shower shelf—shampoo. He squeezes it directly onto my hair, and then he starts to lather it up. Those massive fingertips are surprisingly gentle as they work all over my head.