Page 23 of Even Werewolves Learn

Suddenly, her eyes are staring at my mouth, and the sweet smell of her arousal rises around us.

Fuck.

I want to kiss her. I want to devour her.

She drops her eyes to her pie, and absent-mindedly swipes a finger in the cream before dropping it to her mouth, and licking it clean.

And just like that, I’m the one totally aroused.

I’m not paying any mind to my hardening cock, though. Instead, I pick up the raspberry pie and hold it in front of her.

She puts the pie she has in her hand back in the box and moves her hand to take the one I’m holding.

“No,” I stop her. “Humor me.”

She bites her lower lip before nodding, and I bring the pie to her open lips.

All my mind can conjure is how beautiful she’d be if it was my cock I was feeding her instead of that damn pie.

Her tongue comes in contact with my finger when her mouth closes around the pie, and my brain short-circuits.

I still pull the pie away, and I want to laugh because she has crumbs on the corner of her mouth again—both sides this time.

“So?” I ask, more thinking about eating her lips than wanting to know which one of the pies she wants to eat.

“I don’t know,” she says with a sigh.

I put the raspberry pie back next to the lime one and break off a piece of each before she can pick the pies.

“Want another bite of each?” I ask as I hold both in front of her.

“I shouldn’t,” she answers, but I don’t think she means that she shouldn’t have another bite of each. She’s looking at my hands more than she is looking at the pieces of pastry.

“They’re going to go to waste,” I tell her, choosing to make her believe that I don’t notice what she actually means.

“Okay,” she says. I don’t miss the fact that she’s slightly breathless and that her heart is once again racing—that can’t be good for her.

With my left hand, I bring the piece of lime pie to her mouth and push it between her lips, trying not to react when the tip of her tongue touches my finger again.

“The other now?” I ask when she’s done chewing, and I realize that I’m holding my breath for her answer.

She nods without a word, and I comply.

Except this time, I don’t know what comes over me—actually, I do know: I’m thinking with my cock right now, and I put the piece of pie in her mouth, and my fingers with it.

As soon as her tongue and lips wrap around my fingers, it goes straight to my cock.

What’s worse? She takes her time, as if not realizing what she’s doing, until I can’t take it anymore and a small groan escapes me.

Then, she jumps to her feet, grabs the raspberry pie, and runs to her desk.

“This one,” she says. “This is the one I prefer.”

Her cheeks are tinted the same color as the raspberry on the pie she just picked up, and I can smell her arousal from where I’m sitting on the blanket.

I double-check the time on my holo—still an hour and thirty-four minutes before the end of this detention.

It feels as if my body is so in tune with hers that all my cock wants to do is satisfy the need I can smell on her.