The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 18: The Best Idea

OPHELIA'S POV
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When I came up for whiskey-laced air, the bar was deserted, the curtains drawn closed. Even the bartender had disappeared from sight, probably thanks to whatever Nate had whispered to him when he passed over that enormous tip. For the first time in years, I'd become foolishly oblivious to my surroundings.

"You're sure you want this?" Nate asked, pulling back to search my expression.

I nodded, reaching for the hem of my skirts. My skin felt hot and tight, and the dress itched where it clung to my heaving bosom. I couldn't wait to peel it off and feel the cool kiss of the temperate air, followed by a hot kiss to contradict it.

Nate had other ideas. "I want to unwrap you," he said, sweeping me off my feet and dumping me on the couch. The breath whooshed out of my lungs as I collided with the cushions, my legs parting naturally to brace myself against the fall. Nate's lashes lowered at the sight, but true to his word, he started with the laces of my dress as if I was a gift, slipping my shoulder strap down. My breast spilled over the fabric, the lacy lingerie doing little to support its ample weight.

"Christ," he swore, palming my nipple through the fabric. It stood to attention almost immediately, sending a jolt of pleasure to the place between my thighs. I went to rub them together, but he forced them apart, tsking his disapproval. "So greedy."

I was. I wanted all of him and I wanted it now. Instead I let out a frustrated sigh and threw my head back against the couch, biting down on a whimper as he pulled the second shoulder strap down. Kissing the skin left behind.

His mouth was like fire, a fire that caught and spread as he kissed along my collarbone, following the fold in the fabric. I shifted in place, biting down on my fist to stifle an involuntary groan as he rolled my nipple between his finger and thumb.

I'd always been sensitive, but I felt like a live wire in his arms. The brush of a feather would have me jerking from the intensity of my arousal. My eyes almost rolled into the back of my head when he pulled the dress aside and sucked my left nipple into his mouth, suckling on it through the fabric while he worked the other with his hand. The contrast of his hot, slippery tongue and the coarse lace was maddening, making my hips shift of their own volition, granting him easier access to my throbbing pussy.

Nate chuckled, the sound vibrating deliciously through my skin. Instead of punishing me for being greedy, he gave me exactly what I wanted, his free hand slipping under my skirt to pull aside my soaked panties. I arched off the couch when his fingers slipped inside, dangerously easily, and he growled his approval as he curled his fingers towards him, pressing against that part of me that sang to be acknowledged.

That would have been bad enough. I was already a trembling wreck once he started fucking me with his hand, massaging that unholy seat of all my pleasure, but he threw kerosine on the fire when the rough pad of his thumb dragged across my swollen clit. It was abrasive compared to the rest of him, deliciously so.

"Fuck," I whispered, fingers digging into the threadbare cushions. Those callouses... "Do you play an instrument?"

My question surprised a laugh out of him, and I realised I'd spoken the thought aloud.

"I do," he said, eyes darkening as he leaned back to bear witness to the effect he had on my body. "Guitar, piano and cello."

Something in me tightened deliciously at the thought of his lean, dexterous fingers sweeping over the keys. If the way they worked my body was any indication, he must play beautifully.