His lips formed an oath, but no sound came out. His shoulders slumped, as if defeated. Like I was stupid enough to buy that. I pretended to relax my grip. Sure enough, the second I did, he reared up. I threw myself backward. The added momentum jarred him off balance and we both went down. As we fell, I twisted and landed beside him. Before he could recover, I was on top of him, my forearm against his throat. His hands slid up my sides, snuck around and cupped my breasts.

“Uh-uh,” I growled, pressing against his windpipe. “No distractions.”

He sighed and let his hands slide away. I eased back. As soon as I did, he vaulted up, toppling me over. A second later, I was flat on my back with him on top of me. He pinned me as securely as he had in wolf-form. Then he lifted up, belly and groin pressing into mine. He slid his hands back to my breasts and grinned down at me, daring me to do something about it now.

I glared up at him. Then I shot forward and sank my teeth into his shoulder. He jerked away and I started to scramble up, but he caught me and we rolled over, nip-ping and growling, the bites now interspersed with rough kisses and rougher gropes. Finally, I got the upper position. I pinned him, hands on his shoulders, knees on his thighs. He struggled, but couldn’t throw me off.

“Caught?” I said.

He gave one last squirm, then nodded. “Caught.”

“Good.”

I slid my knees from his thighs and slipped over him. He tried to thrust up to meet me, but I pushed down with my hips, keeping him still. I moved into position. When I felt the tip of him brush me, I stopped and wriggled against him, teasing myself. He groaned and tried to grab my hips, but I pinned his shoulders harder. Then I closed my eyes and plunged down onto him.

He struggled under me, trying to thrust, to grab, to control, but I kept him pinned. After a moment, he gave up and arched against the ground, fingers clenching handfuls of grass, jaw tensing, eyes closing to slits, but staying open, always open, always watching. The first wave of climax hit. I let him go then, but he stayed where he was, leaving me in control. Dimly, I heard him growl as he came and by the time I finished and leaned over him, he was laying back, eyes half-lidded, a lazy grin tweaking the corners of his mouth.

“You know,” he said. “I’m almost going to be sorry when we do get you pregnant.”

I laughed. “I thought you liked doing the chasing.”

“I’m accustomed to doing the chasing. Spent ten years doing it.” His grin broke through. “Nothing wrong with it, but being chased isn’t so bad either.”