Skylar
"Bound?" I ask him, confused. "What does that mean, Dmitri?"
He looks like he has seen a ghost or like someone has told him the gyms have all closed.
"Dmitri!" I shout, pulling him out of his stupor.
He has been sitting there staring at me without actually seeing me, a blank expression plastered on his face. He is freaking me out.
He finally really looks at me, awareness hitting me that my breasts are on full display as I lay back down.
"You can scent me?" he asks in disbelief.
"Not exactly..." I trail off, thinking about how I would explain this.
"I can see scents. Yours is a swirl of slate grey and midnight blue smoke. The colors that sandalwood and pine look like. There is also a unique iridescent pattern that keeps the scents together. No two peoples are the same. That's how I knew it was you in my dream before I saw you. Your scent has been caressing my skin for a decade in my dreams. The tingles I feel in them are the same as when you touch me, just more intense in my dream. You have been haunting me. Why? Why do I feel like this with you? I feel like I'm falling for you, Dmitri, and I've known you for what...just over a week?"
There is silence between us. The water is now lukewarm, and I haven't even washed. Not to mention the bubbles that once were, are now nearly non-existent, and I'm feeling a bit exposed.
I shiver. A movement that doesn't go unnoticed by Dmitri, who is sitting scrutinizing me.
As if reading my mind, he holds his hand out before saying, "Come, let's shower and get clean, then we can talk."
"You go first and don't look," I say, his hand dropping.
I know we have been in more intimate positions before, but I still feel shy and standing in front of him, in broad daylight, after the conversation we just had...it just feels awkward.
He gets out, and I avert my gaze, looking at the opposite wall instead. What is wrong with me? I'm not a teenager. I mentally slap myself. It's not like I haven't had a shower with a guy before. Lies. The most I have done is with this hulking god of a man.
Looking over, I see he is in the shower, back towards me, hands on the wall as the water pours over his body. I don't know how I will do this—lust courses through my veins. I squeeze my eyes shut, building up the courage to get up.
I take another look at Dmitri, making sure he isn't looking before I climb out of the bath. Don't be a baby, I tell myself as I walk towards the shower. As I get closer, I take in the mammoth of a man standing with his back toward me. His off-white hair is curtaining his face as he stands, now with one hand against the wall as the other wipes the water running a path down his forehead, nose, and finally dripping off his chin and nose. I wish I were that water.
His arm muscles flex and bulge with every slight movement. His back muscles are taut, every muscle showcased in clear, smooth skin. My eyes travel down to the crest of his ass. An ass that should surely be licensed as a deadly weapon. It's fucking amazing. Shapely and not an ounce of fat. His thighs are enormous and must be twice the size of mine, I think, looking down to compare. And it's all muscle, down to his ankles.
He is a fine specimen, and my vagina knows it, too, as she instantly becomes moist. I hope this rose bath oil scent in the bathroom covers the smell of my arousal. I say a silent prayer as I enter the torture chamber, moving toward the second showerhead beside him. I look at the nobs, fiddling with them to find the right heat. Beside me, I hear Dmitri take a deep breath, a growl escaping his mouth as we look at each other. I'm stuck in place as he looks at me over his arm, his eyes roaming my body from head to toe before meeting mine again, hunger in the look.
I clench my legs together before I turn my back to him, suddenly feeling embarrassed, my cheeks flushing hotly. I have seen Elanor and the other women that are part of the supernatural world he belongs to, and I know I cannot compete. I'm nothing like them in physique or personality.
Grabbing the loofah hanging from a hook, I pour shower gel on it. The breath hitches in my throat as I feel his body behind me, close to mine, his breath inches from my ear.
"I can smell you, Skylar," he whispers huskily in my ear. Words that never get old and never fail to excite me further. My body shivers as his breath fans my neck. He inches closer, the front of his body plastered against the back of mine, his erection poking into my back.
He takes the loofah from me, grasping one of my arms as he slowly washes it before moving to the other. His right hand then drags the loofah across my left clavicle, his pinkie finger lightly tracing the skin just above my breast, all the way to the other shoulder. It's so titillating and arousing, that slight touch hinting at what his hands can do, my pussy throbbing with desire.
His other hand is snaked around my waist, keeping me in place. I rest my head against his chest, eyes drifting closed. He starts circling the loofah around my left breast, spiraling inwards towards the center, the rough netting rubbing against my sensitized nipple, causing a moan to escape. My right breast receives the same treatment, with his other hand tracing small circles on my stomach, his hand moving further and further south. It stops, holding me in place as I feel his leg nudge my right leg slightly apart.
The loofah slowly travels down the valley between the center of my breasts, past my belly button, all the way down until it brushes my clit, making me jump in shock. It feels delicious. His hand, agonizingly slow, moves the loofah over my folds, back and forth, as his thumb and pinkie finger graze the inside of my leg.
I can feel his dick press harder into my back, causing another moan to escape my mouth. My back arches forward as I bring my right hand behind, grabbing his thick cock tightly, eliciting a guttural groan from him. I release his dick, turning around in his grasp, my hands on his chest.
"My turn," I say, a shy smile on my face.
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Bound
Werewolf#1 Werewolf (08.09.2022) Skylar Morgan has been plagued by recurring nightmares since her eighteenth birthday. Eight years later, she has set up her dream shop in a quiet town, accepting the nightmares as part of her life. But when strange new faces...
