Free Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures by Camille Anthony Page A

swallowing his hand as her upper torso jerked under the electrified whiplash of a long-delayed orgasm.
    His tongue lashed at her nipple, battered the fleshy button until it screamed beneath his ministrations. Turning his head, he lavished the other tip with the same fervor. Between licks he encouraged her, fingers blurring as they shuttled between her open thighs. “Yes, baby, yes, my sweet one…come for me, cream all over my hand.”

    40 Camille Anthony
    With a primal cry, she arched one more time. Her muscles clenched, held her body
    airborne as she hung on the cusp of completion. And then it struck, unraveling her bones until she flowed like water to the cradling cushions.
    “Ah, baby. You are well worth waiting for.”
    Kaila moaned, every muscle and sinew rubbery as Play-doh, too dazed to be sure she
    heard his whispered words correctly. Unable to find the strength to turn even her head, she drowsed on the couch, hands languidly caressing her naked breasts, all shame consumed in the sensual conflagration just passed.
    From above, lips that would have done a black man proud pressed down on hers. An
    insistent tongue pried her mouth open, swept in to encourage her participation in a kiss hotter than the Sahara desert. Caught up in the meshing of mouths and tongues she barely felt him lowering her shirt and straightening her pants.
    Pulling back and away, Rickard gazed down at her, a soft smile wreathing his face. “I really must go. In a day or so, my man will arrive with an envelope for you. It will contain everything you need, including my private number.” He paused, opened his mouth, closed it with a slow shake of his head. “When next you see Pavel, give him my love.”
    He left her boneless from his loving. She turned her head to watch him leave, eyes
    growing damp as, this time, his hand closed around the crystal knob and twisted. The door opened. Beyond the open portal, she caught a glimpse of shadows in the bushes, saw one man come up and speak to the prince. His bodyguards.
    Relaxed beyond measure, she sighed, turned on her side and drew her legs up. A
    moment later, her eyes drifted closed.

    * * * * *
“Did all go well, Highness?”
    Rickard stood on the porch and watched as his trusted men emerged from their secret
    posts. Aware Karel and at least two others had observed his foreplay with Kaila, he frowned.
    Even those who hadn’t observed the tryst had no problem discerning the course of events.
    They had only to observe the heft of his still erect cock.
    Normally, their knowing wouldn’t bother him. Today, for some reason, it irked the shit out of him. Some things should remain private…like giving the woman who might prove to be your best friend’s forever girl her first orgasm. Or two.
    Gruffly, still battling his raging lust, he ignored the question and barked an order.
    “Karel, have the car brought around immediately.”
    “At once, Highness.” Tucking his chin down, the security leader spoke in rapid cadence into his mouthpiece. A practiced hand gesture dispersed the men to their default defense positions.

    Werewulf Journals 3: Hungry Pleasures

    41
    A few minutes later, a sleek white stretch limousine flying the personal Orloffberg flag and the flag of Drestovia purred around the corner. Rickard wasted no time climbing inside.
    Pushing a button on the master console, he engaged the privacy shield, bottom lip caught between sharp teeth until the barrier completely concealed him.
    Hissing with need, he widened his legs, hurriedly unzipped his slacks, and drew out his angry red cock.
    He was so damned close…and yet so far.
    Flinging his head back against the tan leather squabs, he eased his fist up and down his rampant length, almost sobbing at the burning pleasure roaring up his spine, radiating outward from his tight, full balls.
    A flashback of Pavel’s plus-sized woman, her full thighs open as she came on his hand, inundated his mind, ramped up the urgency of his need. Groaning, he