Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love by Camille Anthony Read Free Book Online

sluicing through her veins in a volcanic rush that pooled in the caldron of her sex. If she didn’t get some action soon, she was going to implode.
    Licking her lips, Mel rocked her hips, bringing the folds of her skirt out from under her full bottom. With a sly glance in the mirror to see if he was watching, she fanned the hem, flipping the skirt up to show her pantyless state.
    Between her chunky thighs, spread wide to show Hunter how hungry she was, her pussy glistened with her welling juices, deeply pink and swollen. Her clit rode high and thick between the slippery lips, exposed and needy. She leaned back on her hands, tilting her hips up.
    Hunter’s eyes met hers in the glass. For a moment, thunder rumbled in the room as his low bass growl vibrated the furniture. Then his mouth tightened, and he gave his head a slight shake. “Pull your skirt down, Melody. And for god’s sake, put some panties on.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “This is my den, too. I’ll go naked if I want to.”
    He turned, leaned his hips against the dresser, and crossed his arms. “I’m not going to fuck you, no matter what stunt you pull.”
    “I’m ... I ...” Melody swallowed, swiped her dry lips with a raspy tongue. She sat up straight. In a low voice she admitted, “I really need to come, Hunter. My panties were so wet Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
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    they were about to start dripping. I took them off and tossed them into the hamper while you were in the shower.”
    Hunter crossed his legs, ignoring the swelling taking place between his thighs. “Bring yourself off.”
    After a shocked moment, Melody averted her swimming eyes and tried to stop her bottom lip from trembling. She bit down until it firmed, refusing to use tears to soften him up. If she couldn’t get him to fuck her without tricks, then she didn’t deserve it.
    “I don’t need an orgasm, Hunter. I need to climax ... with you.”
    Fingers shaking, she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off, revealing her plump, full breasts. She palmed her nipples, twisting the hard nubs between her thumbs and forefingers until they stood stiff and alert, encircled by a puffy ring of dark chocolate areoles.
    With an audible thunk, Hunter’s cock popped out from between his legs, fully extended, tip flushed red and blood-swollen. Pre-cum dribbled down the crown, pearly drops coalescing and dripping onto the plush carpet. A hiss of displeasure escaped him and Hunter snarled low and angrily. “I said no, Melody. I refuse to be manipulated ... even by you!” His eyes narrowed. “There’s still enough anger inside me that if I come over there, you’ll soon be wishing you hadn’t started this. I’ll take my pleasure and leave you aching.”
    All playful sexiness dropping from her demeanor, Melody lowered her hands and fisted them at her side. “Let’s talk about that anger, shall we?” Looking into his eyes, she shook her head slowly. “What on earth made you think you could fool me for long?”
    He shifted uneasily, moved his gaze away, refusing to meet her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    Melody gave a disbelieving huff. “Don’t make me laugh, Hunter. You’re a piss-poor liar, thank god.” She stood and walked over to the closet, rummaged inside for something comfortable and loose. Pulling out a bright purple dashiki splashed with pink and green hibiscus flowers, she stuck her arms inside and yanked it down over her head.
    Hunter shielded his eyes with his forearm, shrieking in a high-pitched voice, “Bright light! Bright light!”
    Mel couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Shut up, you fool!”
    “I’m going to rip that monstrosity to shreds one day. It hides your body from me, and those flowers are butt ugly.”
    “Touch my dashiki and you die.”
    “It’s a fucking muumuu, not a dashiki. Dashikis are cool. That thing is just ...” He winced. “... wrong!”
    “I like it.”
    “Better wash it by hand then,” he muttered under his