How to Flirt With a Naked Werewolf - Molly Harper [62]
I growled, a low, aggressive sound that started in my chest, surprising even me. Cooper’s eyes widened when I combined it with a deep, quick thrust of my hips. I chuckled. “You’re in so much trouble.”
Cooper seemed both thrilled and slightly alarmed as I brought my hips down to his again. I arched my back, forming a bridge as I circled my hips over him. Balancing my weight on my knees allowed me to take as much of him as possible, while keeping those low, smooth motions going. Any pretense of control on Cooper’s part evaporated. The man whimpered, a sharp, begging note, through parted lips as we rode together.
Cooper sat up suddenly, his fingers twined with one of my hands while the other held me precariously balanced on my knees. He kissed me deeply, matching each of our thrusts with sweeping rasps of his tongue. I braced my hands on my calves. The sensation of him cupping my bare ass in his hands made me gasp. I ground down just as he arched up. I threw my head back, howling as he hit the spot that I could rarely find myself.
I was unable to keep control as every fiber of my being focused into a hot, pulsing star. Cooper grabbed my hips, forcing me to keep time with him as I tightened convulsively around him.
He rolled, settling me on my side, close to the warmth of the fire. I made a weak, protesting groan when he left me. He pressed my back against his chest and held me tight as he slid inside me. He pulled away completely, only to slam his hips against me, teasing my tight, sensitive core, repeating the action again and again. I moaned, loving the way his hand spanned my hip, keeping me pinned to him. The other was cupped gently around my neck, tilting my face toward him as his movements became more feverish. Both arms coiled around me, clutching me to him. He gave a loud, throaty growl and bit down lightly on the nape of my neck as he came.
Cooper stilled, his face buried in my shoulder as his breathing evened out. I closed my eyes, the warmth of the fire and of Cooper’s breath on my neck making me dreamily drowsy. He pulled away from me, grabbing a quilt and slipping it over us. He tucked his chin over my shoulder and nuzzled my neck. Our breathing slowed, and I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he asked, “Um, how do you do that thing, with the balance . . . and the arching?”
I giggled, turning toward him as he sat up. “The one thing I took away from my upbringing was an aptitude for yoga. I was doing sun salutations before I could walk. And now I practice for about an hour whenever I can, usually when I’m waiting for something to come out of the oven. I have very, very good balance,” I said, nipping at his lip.
He shook his head as if rattling something loose. “Everything you said after yoga is kind of a blur. Can you put your foot behind your head?”
“Yes, yes, I can. And if you’re a very good boy, I’ll put my foot behind your head.”
Cooper swiped a hand across his mouth. “I think I’m drooling.”
There was a tiny patch of light purple fabric clinging to Cooper’s hand. It took my hormone-flooded brain a few seconds to realize it was a remnant of my underwear. I sat up and looked around the room in horror. There were little shreds of purple silk littering the floor around us. It looked like pastel confetti. Very expensive pastel confetti.
“You destroyed my underwear,” I said.
“Well, yeah, it was in my way,” Cooper said, as if that justified mutilating La Perla.
“You just destroyed four hundred dollars’ worth of underwear,” I told him.
Cooper paled. “You pay four hundred dollars for underwear?”
“Yes.”
Cooper chewed on his lip. “I would say that’s ridiculous, but really, it’s worth every penny.” His grin was, well, wolfish. “You’d better start