The Werewolf Prince and I (The Moretti Werewolf 1)

Her face burned. “I was curious!”

“I’m just kidding, darling. And to answer your question, yes, it will fit and no, it will not tear you apart – well, not at least in a way that you would not want it to.”

She looked at him doubtfully.

“It will be fantastic between us.” He smiled into her eyes. “Would you like to explore for a bit? You can do anything.”

She nodded.

“I’m yours,” Domenico said simply.

Her heart swelled at those words.

Misty slowly wrapped her fingers around him, reacquainting herself with the feel of Domenico’s erection. She slowly stroked him up and down, the way he had taught her to. Misty loved the sound of his groan and loved it even more when he reached to cup her br**sts and play with her ni**les as she continued stroking him.

“Domenico?” she whispered.

He looked down.

She took him in her mouth.

Domenico gasped and groaned. He had not expected that and knew that Misty had planned it exactly that way. Her mouth was as heavenly as he remembered. His head whirled at the sensations her tongue evoked and the feelings rose in intensity as her tongue swirled, dipped, and teased.

His hands instinctively went to her hair, guiding and exerting pressure. He couldn’t help it, and he loved it even more that Misty seemed even more eager to follow his commands.

When Domenico was nearing the end, he abruptly pulled away.

“I’m not yet done,” Misty protested.

“But I will be if you continue and what kind of honeymoon this would be?” he retorted even as he strove to caught his breath. In one fluid move, Domenico had Misty lying on her back and his mouth on her breast while his fingers sought the essence of her.

“Domenico!”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he whispered huskily before gently biting her nipple.

Her back curved in reaction to the exquisite pleasure his touch created.

Moving up to take her lips in a kiss, Domenico gently parted her inner folds to slide one finger in. Then he followed it with a second, third, and fourth, forcing her insides to stretch, preparing it or his cock.

She gasped against his mouth.

“Relax,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” she whispered back, but hers was shrill and tense.

He worked his fingers in and out in slow and steady strokes until her muscles gradually relaxed.

“Does it feel good?” he asked hoarsely, dying to sink himself inside her but knowing it was not yet time. He only wished he would last until she was ready.

“Y-yes,” she gasped and gasped more loudly the second time because Domenico had shoved all four fingers deeper into her. The pressure was uncomfortable only at the start. She could feel herself stretching to accommodate his fingers and with every stretch, the pleasure inside her blossomed even more.

“I love it when I see you so turned on for me,” Domenico rasped.

Misty moaned in utter pleasure, her h*ps moving up and down on its own accord.

Domenico savored the sounds his wife – he loved the sound of those words even more – was making.

When he was finally sure she was wet and ready for him, Domenico slowly parted her thighs and settled himself between them. “I’m going to f**k you now,” he told her harshly.

“Domenico.”

Without any more warning, he pushed himself inside her to the hilt.

“Aaaah.” Her head lolled back against the pillow at the unbelievable onslaught of sensation his possession created.

The feeling of being surrounded by Misty’s warmth was so exquisitely beautiful Domenico had a feeling he would not last more than a few seconds before succumbing to the demands of his body. He wanted to move hard and fast and make the pleasure grow even more.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

Misty couldn’t speak. She could only twirl her arms around his neck, wrap her legs around his, and lift her h*ps to make him sink even further in.

It was all the response he needed.

Domenico withdrew almost completely before sinking back, grinding his h*ps down against hers.

Her hands swept his back restlessly with each thrust he made. When Misty’s fingers dug into his shoulders, he took that as a sign that she was lost as he was in the pleasure of their union and increased the speed and tempo of his thrusts.

“You feel so f**king good it’s killing me,” he rasped against her skin as he nuzzled her neck.

Her head fell back once more. “Domenico, please.” She didn’t know what she was begging for, and her nails scraped his back as his thrust hit her cl*t at just the right place.

Misty’s words undone him.

His control left him.

His thrusts became faster, wilder, and more powerful and the pleasure only intensified when Misty met his every move, muscles clenching, h*ps moving up and down.

“Misty, come with me,” he commanded raggedly as he felt his orgasm building for an explosive release.

“Domenico,” was all Misty could say, eyes rolling back.

Just before he exploded inside her, Domenico withdrew one last time before slamming back into her in full force, sucking one nipple hungrily into his mouth as he did.

Misty’s lips parted in a silent scream as she joined him in his release, her body bucking underneath his at the strength of her own orgasm.

Hours later, after the fourth bout of their lovemaking, Domenico played with a curl of his wife’s hair as he asked, “How do you feel?”

“Like I should have dragged you to bed a long, long time ago,” she admitted.

He laughed. “Misty…”

“I know,” she said glumly. “I’m such a sex addict.”

He shook his head and gave her a breathtaking kiss, his hand squeezing the curve of her waist. The touch alone made her toes curl and wish for another round of lovemaking.

“I’m just as addicted,” he said huskily as he nuzzled her neck. “More so, probably.”

“How do you feel?” she asked shyly after a moment.

He smiled down at her. “Blessed.”

Her cheeks warmed. “That’s nice.”

“Misty…”

“Mmm…”

“Tomorrow or someday, people may ask you if we’ve mated---”

“What?!” She sat up at that, shocked that people would actually ask something that was so intimate and none of their business either.

Smiling at her reaction, he pulled her back down and his smile widened as she automatically snuggled close to him.

“Don’t be troubled. It’s a---” Domenico sought for the right words to explain the dilemma, knowing he had to tread carefully if he didn’t want Misty to be hurt again. “It’s a Lyccan tradition. So just tell them the truth. We’ve mated.”