That shocks a chuckle out of me, but then I’m suddenly groaning when her teeth pinch my skin. “No. Just never asked … for this.”

I’m having trouble remembering anything that’s felt better than the rhythmic pumping Zoey refuses to let up on. My hips try to thrust in time with her movements.

“But you gave it?” She ends her question with another kiss on my stomach, and the image of my face buried between Zoey’s legs has me growling.

“Yeah. Fuck. I want to lick your pussy.”

Her grip tightens by a fraction, drawing out my panting and thrusting.

“In a minute.”

Then, she places her lips against the crown of my cock and slowly drags me into the wet heat of her mouth.

And if I’d known this is what I could’ve asked for, I would have.

Zoey sucks me in deep, then hums a happy sound. The vibration massages my dick. My knees threaten to buckle.

She lets me slip back out, teasing the underside of my cock with her tongue as she does.

Curses tumble from my mouth.

Then, Zoey stands, letting me go, and I want to beg her to touch me again.

“Wait, Zoey, I’m sorry.”

She raises one eyebrow. “Sorry for what?”

“I …” I don’t know exactly. “For whatever I did wrong.”

Her curious brown eyes trace over me as satisfaction curves her mouth. “I was just going to suggest you sit down before your legs give out. I doubt I’m strong enough to catch you.”

Zoey smiles at me, sweet and confident. She cares about me. About something as simple as my comfort during a blow job. The suggestion somehow ramps up the meaning of this encounter.

At least it does for me.

Instead of finding a place to sit, I snake my arm around Zoey’s waist, tugging her into my chest. As I capture her mouth with mine, I spread my hands over her bare skin. She is soft against my hard grip. Wild, instinctual urges beg that I mark her. Not in a violent manner. I don’t want to bruise her pillowy skin.

More like I want to tattoo my fingerprints on her.

Yes, my wolf whispers.

Be mine. I fight the desperate plea, worried I’ll scare her away with the strength of my wanting.

In place of the words, I use my touch to worship her.

My tongue caresses hers, inciting happy gasps that I swallow down as gifts. Gently, I knead the flesh of her ass, rocking our hips together, hinting at the way I want to thrust into her.

Zoey cups my cheeks, only to keep my head still as she pulls away.

“You said I could go down on you.” There’s an accusing note to her voice.