Eve Langlais: Broomstick Breakdown

She continued on in her fantasy of Aidan plowing her, his heavy body above hers pumping away. His hands would hold her legs up, allowing him to penetrate her deeply, his hard cock filling her up.

That’s it, do me. Her visual fantasy made her pant, while her body thrummed in pleasure. Faster and faster, she pumped her fingers in and out of her channel. Still, her orgasm hung elusively out of reach.

She mewled with frustration. Why can’t I come?

Aidan feigned indifference when he noticed Sophia’s nervousness at the realization they’d not only be sharing a room, but a bed too. He’d lied to her. The motel had plenty of empty rooms. However, seducing the sexy witch would be a lot harder to accomplish if she were in another room, and he definitely wanted a taste of her. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just thrown her onto the bed and had his way with her, although he’d almost swept her into his arms when he’d smelt her sweet arousal as he’d stripped off his shirt. Only one thing stopped him from a full-tilt seduction: her. He wanted her to come to him, and with good reason, for he’d come to an amazing realization during the drive-the little witch was his mate.

Upon first meeting her, he’d found himself instantly attracted and in lust. Not an unusual reaction. He had a healthy sex drive and she was definitely hot, but the more time he spent in her proximity, the more overwhelming became the urge to touch her, taste her, mark her.

His wolf, not usually interested in the other sex beyond fucking, kept shaking his shaggy head inside of Aidan’s mind. Agitated and excited, he finally made the thoughts in his bestial mind known to Aidan. Claim her, mark her, make her ours.

The revelation stunned him, and he was thankful she’d been snoozing when it hit and the truck swerved on the road.

He couldn’t believe it. Apparently, the information his father had handed down about mates had been true. Not that his father and mother were true mates, but they’d both heard the stories. When you met the one, a shifter instantly knew. Not that it happened to everyone. True mates weren’t common, the theory being with thousands of wolf shifters scattered around the world, what were the chances a wolf’s mate lived within the pack or even nearby? Some actually left the pack, questing for years in the hopes of finding the one who would complete them. A few even succeeded, more just ended up settling for an attractive bitch and popping out a few pups if they were lucky.

However, the knowledge that Sophia was meant to be his mate came with a slew of problems-the first and foremost being the fact she wasn’t a werewolf and the pack really frowned on interspecies marriage. Banishment was a distinct possibility if he followed this through. Then, even if they overlooked the fact they came from different genomes, he also had to keep in mind just because he was ready based on a mystical reaction to commit forever didn’t mean she felt the same. Heck, would the true mate bond, a magic of sorts, affect a non-wolf? And lastly, she still didn’t have a clue as to his origins, and while she might not be a regular human, she might balk at having a husband who turned furry on full moons and, well, basically whenever he felt like it.

Itemizing the reasons a mating wouldn’t work, though, forced him to think of reasons why it might. Such as the clear evidence she desired him, her lust readily evident in her scent. He desired her as well, his arousal almost constant since the moment of their meeting. Apart from wanting to plow her, he also found her intriguing, cute, intelligent, and just about perfect so far. How did she view him, though? Despite her sexual interest in him as a man, he also couldn’t miss her trepidation. How should he approach the matter? Hi, just so you know, I’m a werewolf and you’re my true mate. Let’s fuck so I can bite you and make you mine forever. Hmm, the direct approach probably wouldn’t work. He didn’t want to scare her off, not that she’d ever be able to escape him. Now that he had her scent, he could track her to the ends of the Earth. However, how did one explain to a woman he’d just met that they were destined to live happily ever after? Oh, and how did she feel about having puppies?

The sound of the shower made his thoughts turn as he imagined her curvy body under the spray, naked. His erection sprang back to life, throbbingly so. Damn, he’d have to do something about this mate thing soon. His control was wearing thin already and he’d only met her last night. The easy solution? Fuck her. The problem? Could he keep enough control during the act to not mark her? Unlike others of his brethren, he wouldn’t force his bite on her. He’d give her the choice when the time was right and let fate decide. Surely they wouldn’t have chosen her if she wasn’t destined to feel the same way? However, it wouldn’t hurt if he played a little dirty in his quest to have her see him as more than just a ride to a witches’ convention.

He unbuttoned the top of his jeans to give his cock a bit of room to breathe. Once again, though, his mischievous side, which was determined to move things along, had him shucking his pants completely so he wore only his black briefs. Unlike his brothers, he couldn’t go commando. The zipper scared him.

Lying back on the bed, he placed his hands behind his head and waited for her to finish her shower. A moment later, he sat bolt upright in bed.

No, she can’t be. She is! His witch was pleasuring herself in the shower-without him. It was only through a great exertion of self-control that he kept himself from barreling through the flimsy bathroom door to take what was his. The only thing that stopped him was the frustration that radiated from her over her mounting need. Apparently, his little witch needed more than the stimulation of her fingers, and he couldn’t wait for her to come to that conclusion and get her ass into the bed so he could pleasure her-and himself.

He’d just relieve their sexual tension. He could control himself long enough to do that. And if the urge to bite got too strong…well, he’d worry about that dangerous cliff when he came to the edge of it.

Sophia sagged in the shower and admitted defeat. Much as she wanted to and tried, she couldn’t come. But at least she’d been in the shower long enough for him to have fallen asleep.

She turned off the shower, stepped out, and toweled herself dry. She’d brought her purse into the bathroom with her. She opened it and scrounged around inside.

Bigger than it seemed, the purse came almost up to the shoulder as she reached in to find her sleep T-shirt and shorts. Dressing in them, she shoved her dirty clothes into her magical purse which doubled as a closet, medicine chest, and anything else she thought to shove in there.

She stalled for time. She brushed her teeth. She ran a brush through her hair. She rubbed moisturizer over every inch of her skin. This is stupid. I can’t stay in the bathroom forever. He’ll be asleep for sure by now, and it’s not like he’ll know I’m horny.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and exited the bathroom. The sinking feeling in her stomach when she saw him sleeping on top of the bed in his underwear definitely wasn’t disappointment.

Who could be disappointed when the most perfectly shaped man ever to grace the planet lay on the covers wearing only black briefs that did little to hide an impressive bulge, one that seemed to grow and twitch as she watched it with wide eyes?

Sophia swallowed the extra moisture in her mouth but could do little about the moisture that pooled in her sex.

He moved on the bed, rolling on his side to face her. He opened eyes that she could have sworn glowed and said in a low, husky tone that made her cleft quiver, “Come to bed, Sophia.”