Page 55 of Howl Will I Know

While he handles the condom, my nerves climb again. The sight of him rolling it down over that thick length makes my mouth go dry. He’s bigger than I expected—bigger than anything I’ve imagined.

Hewit sees the trepidation in my eyes as he lies down beside me and pulls me against his chest, one heavy arm around my back. “No rush.”

I breathe him in. Warm skin. Soap. Hewit. The faint sharpness beneath his usual scent, wild and musky—his wolf close to the surface.

After a minute, I kiss his chest, then his throat, then lower, letting my tongue drag over a scar. His arm tightens around me.

The more I touch him, the less nervous I feel. Want takes over instead, hot and urgent, until lying here beside him suddenly isn’t enough.

I shift closer, and he groans and arches his hips as my hand slides down his stomach to circle his cock.

“Hewit.”

He catches my gaze immediately.

“I need you.”

His hand settles on my waist. “Thank fuck. Because I’m about to lose my goddamn mind.”

He shifts over me carefully, bracing most of his weight on his arms. I let myself feel the solid heat of him without panicking. He kisses me as he positions himself, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

The first pressure makes me tense. “Wait.”

He stops instantly, and his forehead drops to mine. “Breathe.”

I do. The stretch is more than I expected. Not unbearable, just intense—full, almost too much. Hewit doesn’t move, every muscle locked, jaw tight with the effort of holding still.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Just… give me a second.” I shift beneath him experimentally, taking a little more of him. “That helps.”

His breath hisses between his teeth. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

I do it again, rolling my hips so he sinks deeper. The burn eases into something hotter.

His eyes close. “Dangerous woman.”

I huff a laugh, and the movement makes me tighten around him.

One corner of his mouth lifts. “Irresistible combination.”

He moves a little deeper, inch by careful inch, until he’s fully seated, and I’m so full I can barely breathe. Hewit watches my face the entire time, sweat beading at his temple.

When I finally nod, he moves.

It takes time before my body catches up to what my mind already wants. The friction begins to feel good. Then very good. Then so good that I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into the backs of his thighs.

Hewit makes a broken sound against my mouth. His control slips, and his next thrust is harder, deeper. I gasp, pleasure sparking sharp and bright.

He immediately stills.

“No.” I tighten my legs around him and roll my hips up to meet him. “That was good. Do it again.”

His eyes hold mine. “Harder?”

“God, yes. Harder.”

That’s all he needs. His rhythm deepens. One hand slides beneath my hip, angling me so he can thrust deeper, and the new angle makes me cry out. The bed creaks. His breathing turns ragged. So does mine. Every stroke drags against places inside me I didn’t know could feel this much.