Untamed: an Alpha's Love (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Evelyn Glass
Her panting mixed with little whimpers. Above her Parker kept up a stream of murmured praise for her responsiveness as he played her body like a piano, his fingers nimble and everywhere they needed to be to make the sweet notes of her delight.
Her whimpers turned to keening, a fever pitch of nonsense and noises. She felt herself burst apart, every inch of her exploding and scattering into the wind before being sucked back into one piece. It went on and on and she rocked against his hand, losing her footholds on his shoulders as she squeezed her thighs tightly together to prolong the ecstasy. She gulped for air, realizing she'd stopped breathing when her climax hit her, and now she couldn't draw it back into her lungs fast enough. Parker's hand was still tucked into her moist junction, his thumb still pressed against her swollen clit. He kept his hand on her until she curled her legs away from him and closed her eyes.
She realized he was stroking himself when he urged her in a strangled voice to spread her legs back apart. "It'll be fast, Baby," he promised hoarsely, and it was. Within seconds he groaned, "Oh, fuck!" and warm splashes followed his words, coating her belly and thighs. He collapsed on top of her, his face burrowed between her breasts as he caught his own breath. "Oh, God, that was beautiful," he murmured after a moment.
"Mmmm," she replied, still basking in the aftershocks.
"I love you." His lips found hers, sweet and nearly chaste after what they'd just shared. "My gorgeous wife." He gazed into her eyes and kissed her again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. "I can't get enough of you."
Her fingers tangled in his hair and she kissed him back with mounting passion. She couldn't get enough of him, either. Already, her blood was singing in her veins.
But the countertop, now that she was conscious of it, wasn't the most comfortable venue for lovemaking. "I think my hair is in the pineapple," she mused, and they both dissolved into breathless giggles.
"You're all sticky," he agreed gleefully, hauling her upright and into his arms. "Let's get cleaned up. I'm not done with you, anyway."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Why are we showering if you're just going to get me all dirty again?" Charmaine's voice was languid as he lathered her hair, massaging her scalp with gentle circles.
"You had pineapple juice in your hair and sticky thighs," he reminded her, wiping a clump of foam off her forehead and planting a kiss there. "And I didn't shower yet today. I was trying to be courteous."
"Mmm, you were courteous, all right." At her tone his groin tightened. She rarely talked dirty or made erotic insinuations, and when she did it got to him every time.
He turned her under the spray and watched as the water rinsed the shampoo away, leaving her as sleek as a mermaid, rivulets of water dripping down her full breasts. He captured her mouth with his and kissed her as the water cascaded over them, his fingers gripping into her buttocks, lifting her against him until her toes barely brushed the tile floor. Her tits were slick against him, her hard nipples grazing his chest. He felt the nest of hair prickling against his thigh and suppressed the urge to push her against the wall and slam inside of her. She'd already had her back to one hard surface today. The next time had to be a bit more comfortable. He had a hard time remembering he couldn't be so rough with her now.
"You're not getting clean," she teased when they parted for air. Slipping flat onto her feet she reached for the soap. "Allow me."
He closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of her soapy hand tugging on him, squeezing and corkscrewing until the blood rushed in his ears. She lathered both hands and put the soap back in its holder and then both hands were on him, one massaging his sac while the other worked his length. He was cupped and squeezed and tugged at the most maddening pace, never fast enough to
Her whimpers turned to keening, a fever pitch of nonsense and noises. She felt herself burst apart, every inch of her exploding and scattering into the wind before being sucked back into one piece. It went on and on and she rocked against his hand, losing her footholds on his shoulders as she squeezed her thighs tightly together to prolong the ecstasy. She gulped for air, realizing she'd stopped breathing when her climax hit her, and now she couldn't draw it back into her lungs fast enough. Parker's hand was still tucked into her moist junction, his thumb still pressed against her swollen clit. He kept his hand on her until she curled her legs away from him and closed her eyes.
She realized he was stroking himself when he urged her in a strangled voice to spread her legs back apart. "It'll be fast, Baby," he promised hoarsely, and it was. Within seconds he groaned, "Oh, fuck!" and warm splashes followed his words, coating her belly and thighs. He collapsed on top of her, his face burrowed between her breasts as he caught his own breath. "Oh, God, that was beautiful," he murmured after a moment.
"Mmmm," she replied, still basking in the aftershocks.
"I love you." His lips found hers, sweet and nearly chaste after what they'd just shared. "My gorgeous wife." He gazed into her eyes and kissed her again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. "I can't get enough of you."
Her fingers tangled in his hair and she kissed him back with mounting passion. She couldn't get enough of him, either. Already, her blood was singing in her veins.
But the countertop, now that she was conscious of it, wasn't the most comfortable venue for lovemaking. "I think my hair is in the pineapple," she mused, and they both dissolved into breathless giggles.
"You're all sticky," he agreed gleefully, hauling her upright and into his arms. "Let's get cleaned up. I'm not done with you, anyway."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Why are we showering if you're just going to get me all dirty again?" Charmaine's voice was languid as he lathered her hair, massaging her scalp with gentle circles.
"You had pineapple juice in your hair and sticky thighs," he reminded her, wiping a clump of foam off her forehead and planting a kiss there. "And I didn't shower yet today. I was trying to be courteous."
"Mmm, you were courteous, all right." At her tone his groin tightened. She rarely talked dirty or made erotic insinuations, and when she did it got to him every time.
He turned her under the spray and watched as the water rinsed the shampoo away, leaving her as sleek as a mermaid, rivulets of water dripping down her full breasts. He captured her mouth with his and kissed her as the water cascaded over them, his fingers gripping into her buttocks, lifting her against him until her toes barely brushed the tile floor. Her tits were slick against him, her hard nipples grazing his chest. He felt the nest of hair prickling against his thigh and suppressed the urge to push her against the wall and slam inside of her. She'd already had her back to one hard surface today. The next time had to be a bit more comfortable. He had a hard time remembering he couldn't be so rough with her now.
"You're not getting clean," she teased when they parted for air. Slipping flat onto her feet she reached for the soap. "Allow me."
He closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of her soapy hand tugging on him, squeezing and corkscrewing until the blood rushed in his ears. She lathered both hands and put the soap back in its holder and then both hands were on him, one massaging his sac while the other worked his length. He was cupped and squeezed and tugged at the most maddening pace, never fast enough to
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