Eve Langlais - Jealous Freakn’

“Oh.”

“Ha. I’ve rendered her speechless and I didn’t even have to put something in your mouth to do it.”

“Thought about ways to gag me, have you?”

“The entire time I was gone,” he admitted with no shame.

“I’d hate for you to go on wondering,” she replied saucily. The desire she’d kept under control through lunch, since the moment he’d returned actually, took over. She wanted Alejandro, needed him. Needed to feel his touch. Needed his love. Need to claim, her wolf added pacing her mind, impatient to make this man theirs.

Leaning over, she unzipped his pants, her hand delving in the opening to stroke his semi-hard cock through his briefs.

“This is probably a stupid question, but what are you doing, baby?”

“I am going to blow you,” she stated calmly, bending over further until her face hovered over his lap. Commuters in other vehicles didn’t matter-let them watch. The fact he drove and they courted danger couldn’t stop her-they’d heal. The raging fire inside her demanded action, and she obeyed.

“But the traffic… Aren’t you…Aaahh.” He ended his feeble protests on a sigh as she pulled him free and sucked him into her mouth. Up and down, she worked his shaft, her lips pulled taut over his girth, her teeth lightly grazing his skin. The more she suctioned, the more his cock hardened, the fat vein on the underside pulsing erratically against her tongue. Oh to taste his essence, to make him lose control.

Faster and faster, she bobbed, only vaguely noticing the car stopped. Impatient hands pulled her up. Alejandro’s lips found hers and latched on for a scorching kiss. The same urgency that imbued her came through in his embrace. His lips slid over hers, devouring, sucking, tasting, his tongue melding with hers until she didn’t know where one began and the other stopped.

That wasn’t all he did, though. His hand crept up her thigh, rubbing against her core through the fabric of her slacks, making her moan against his mouth. Wet, so fucking wet.

Heart pounding madly, sex throbbing deliciously, she could only moan incoherently, straining against the hand that stroked her, begging for a more intimate touch.

Sensing her need for more, he unbuttoned her pants and slid his hand in. Fingers slid through her curls to find her clit and rub it. She gasped against his mouth, her hips jerking as her body reacted to his caress.

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving?” she panted, wondering with a distant humor if they were stopped in traffic with an audience. How exciting.

“I found us a parking garage.”

“A what?” She allowed herself a quick glance around, noting they were in a fluorescent lighted area, with cars parked all around them.

“I need you, Francine.” He said the words in a rough voice, his urgency clear in his eyes and tone.

“Then let’s put that back seat of yours to good use.” She managed to squeeze between the front seats into the back, but when he would have followed, his bigger frame got caught. She couldn’t help the husky giggle as he cursed and squirmed, unable to fit himself through the small space.

And of course she didn’t help matters. Cupping her breasts, she stroked her thumbs over erect peaks that strained against the fabric of her top. “Hurry, Jag. Hurry and get back here before I take care of myself.” She coasted a hand down her body and slid her hand into the opening of her pants, right into her panties and cupped her moist sex. She moaned, not just at the heat of her pussy, but the wild light in his eyes.

In a flash, he’d pulled himself out of the wedge between the front seats and got out of the car. Opening the rear passenger door, he hesitated before entering. With his pants already undone and his cock straining through the opening, he was the picture of a male out of control. And she’d done that. What a heady feeling.

He pushed his jeans down around his knees before clambering in. Francine, already sprawled lengthwise on the seat, held her arms out for him. He fell on her, his mouth hungry for a kiss, his hands impatiently yanking at her slacks, tearing them the rest of the way down.

The windows steamed up as they embraced and stroked, frantic in their need, desperate to reach that blissful peak.

“Now, Jag, I need you.” She hiked a leg up, looping her calf over the driver seat, spreading herself for him. He wasted no time, driving his cock into her moist core, his hard thrust filling her up so deliciously and satisfying the part of her that had missed him so much.

“Oh fuck, baby. I need you so freakn’ much,” he growled as he pumped. “Those days without you were pure torture,” he panted as he claimed her with his cock.

Her fingers dug into his back as she arched into his thrusts, her own desire just as great. “I love you, Jag, so much it almost hurts. I want you forever.” Would die without him in her life. Hell, she’d probably expire if she didn’t come soon as well.

“I’m already yours,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “And now the world will know it too.” With those words, he bit her, his incisors sinking into her flesh, marking her, claiming her as his. His woman. His mate.

Francine screamed as the sense of connection, the rightness of his act roared through her, triggering her climax. Her body heaved and convulsed around and against his, but she didn’t lose sight of the important thing she had to do. Make him ours, her wolf whispered.

“My turn,” she murmured. Alejandro released her skin, but not before giving her new mark a lick. Still pumping into her, his cock pulsed, and she felt the tension in his neck against her lips as he fought to hold on. She shattered his control to hell when she bit him back. Now, you belong to me.

With a roar, he came inside her, murmuring her name over and over. “Francine, Francine, fuck, how I love you.”

Not exactly Shakespearean poetry, but still a beautiful declaration she’d treasure forever.

And it would, of course, happen in the backseat of a car.

Alejandro couldn’t stop grinning. He’d bound himself to one woman for life, and by damn, he’d never felt happier. He held Francine’s hand all the way home. People talked about mating and the fever. They made it sound like some big deal. How right they were, and wrong because it transcended big deal into freakn’ awesome and unbelievable, yet so perfectly right.

Of course, he wished he’d chosen a more romantic locale to claim his mate-the back seat of his car in an underground garage not exactly his first place choice-but still, it was the end result that mattered. I am mated.

Sure, he knew that the mating itself only covered a part of it. The bigger task now remained in making his claim, along with Mitchell’s, work in harmony lest they upset Francine. For his part, he didn’t foresee a problem. His openness about sexuality meant he could accept different forms of sexual pleasure. While sharing had never before been high on his list of things to do-unless it involved two women-now that he found himself in the position where he had to share with another man, he didn’t find himself as averse to it as he would have thought. Seeing Mitchell kissing Francine earlier didn’t trigger jealousy. Arousal, yes, but no urge to thump the other male into submission. Would he feel the same way if he came across Mitchell sinking his cock into Francine?

Judging by his hardening shaft, he’d enjoy that visual stimulation. He also knew from small hints that Francine wouldn’t mind it as well, but how to bring Mitchell on board?

He pondered that dilemma as they showered together, making love slowly on her new king-sized mattress. He turned the problem over in his mind as he helped Francine finish cleaning up and rearranging the new furniture when it arrived. He’d not come up with a solution once Mitchell arrived with dinner.