Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 1) by Ariana Hawkes Read Free Book Online Page A

asked.
    “Some,” Peter replied. She raised an eyebrow; they wouldn’t have come cheap. She flicked a glance at him. He was still lounging, watching her calmly. Slowly, slowly, she allowed herself to take pleasure in the situation, knowing that the eyes on her were appreciative. After all, this was what she’d come for – to feel dominated, objectified by a man’s desires. She was glowing with the simple pleasure of being watched by this strikingly good-looking man. She crossed over to the photographic prints, watching out of the corner of her eye as his head moved to track her steps.
    “You have a light step,” he said. “It’s uncommon in females around here.” She was walking lightly, she realized – padding almost. Did she always walk like this? Maybe only when she was stark naked in a strange man’s house.
    Dimly, Isabel registered that the prints were of scenes from nature, mostly alpine, but they didn’t seem to be local scenes. Although, her ability to assess anything was being compromised by her overwhelming arousal.
    Suddenly, there was a sound behind her – somewhere between a word and a growl – and she flipped her head around to look at The Wolf. He was no longer lounging, but sitting up straight, poised on the edge of the sofa. At the same moment, he stood up and, in three steps, was behind her. His hands clasped her breasts and his dark head bent towards the base of her neck. His teeth nipped at her skin, and then he bit into her flesh, hard, thrillingly. Isabel cried out, both in shock and pleasure. The touch of his hands on her breasts was intense, and they felt small in his grasp. He kneaded them as his teeth grazed her neck, pinching her nipples. She let out a moan, giving voice to her pent-up arousal. At that, he lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her over to the sofa.
    Peter laid Isabel down on her back, and climbed on top, his body arching over. She looked up at him, imagining she was the prey of some predatory animal. Thick muscles bulged in his forearms as he balanced his weight above her. He brought his head close, and his mouth was on hers again. She licked at his lips, tasting a slight saltiness, probably her own perspiration that he’d picked up from her neck. His tongue slid into her mouth. It felt long, and it slipped in deep. At first, she tried to resist its intrusion but quickly realized she couldn’t. Instead, she let herself surrender to it, sucking on it as it filled her mouth.
    Then The Wolf’s mouth was on her neck again, his tongue lapping at her throat, from the hollow between her collarbones, up to her chin. It was a surprisingly delicate sensation, leaving hardly any trace of moisture. Isabel sighed; it was also very lulling. As aroused as she was, she almost felt she could go to sleep, with her throat bared to his ministrations. Peter stopped and looked into her eyes. She smiled at him drowsily, thinking he was looking for reassurance, and he smiled back at her. He lowered his head and she again felt his teeth grazing the side of her neck. They were unusually sharp, and she sensed that he was holding back, and that they could puncture her skin very easily if he chose. He bit down a little, and the pain combined with her arousal into a shiver that ran all the way through her. The Wolf moved from one side of her neck to the other, sinking his teeth more deeply into the base of her neck, close to her shoulders. Almost without knowing it, Isabel was letting out little moans and gasps, fearing his teeth, desperate for another nip. His hands were in her hair now, pulling her head from side to side as he chewed at her neck. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, and she ached for him to be between them, but he straddled her, frustratingly out of reach. She was reaching a state of abandon, unable to control the sounds she was making, or the way her body was twitching, craving his touch.
    At last, Peter pulled back and looked into Isabel’s eyes, the