Real Men Howl (Real Men Shift #1)

“Mason,” she panted and moaned, that tongue giving her a promise of more, but not quite yet.

Except this time he seemed to understand, seemed to know that he’d pushed her to the edge of her control. Mason’s mouth abandoned her but only for a moment. Just long enough for deft fingers to take the place of his tongue. For him to tug the scrap of silk and lace aside and bare her wet pussy to the room’s cool air. He exposed her wet, needy flesh, body trembling in anticipation of what was to come. He pursed his lips and leaned forward, brushing a soft, sweet, and all too brief kiss across her sex lips. And no matter how chaste the kiss, that single caress lit the flames of her desire more than any man in her past.

She couldn’t wait for him to finally take her into his arms. To wrap around her and consume her with his desire until she fainted from the pleasure. Hell, she’d probably die.

Mason hooked his thumbs beneath the waist of her panties and gave a gentle tug, the silk tracing her hips before they tumbled to the ground. A raw, carnal growl vibrated through the air, rumbles sinking into her and forcing her desire to climb even higher.

“Absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed deeply and groaned. “I can’t wait to spread your thighs and see every last inch of you.”

“But not before I get a chance to unwrap you.” Her voice was more coarse and needy than she’d ever heard it before.

Mason pushed to his feet in a single fluid move, his gaze never leaving hers. She sensed his indecision combating his desire and all-consuming hunger, and he finally shook his head—denying her.

“Not yet.” He shook his head.

“But I want…”

“I know what you want.” He reached up and back, grabbing his shirt between his shoulder blades, and tugged, whipping the fabric over his head. “But tonight, this is all you get.”

Lucy drank him in, studying the chiseled contour of his pecs, abs, and even bulky triceps. He was more Greek god than human and she wondered if it was too late to change her mind. Too late to beg for all of him.

“Get back on the bed.” Mason’s voice was all grit and gravel. “Open those pretty thighs for me and if you’re a good girl, I’ll take off the rest.”

Lucy swallowed hard and then moved faster than she ever had in her life.





Once he had Lucy on the bed before him, body bared to his gaze, his mind raced with every fantasy he could conjure. Still, before he moved, he gave himself a moment to savor the sight of her—savor the blessing he’d received.

Because fuck if she wasn’t a blessing from God.

Her soft, creamy thighs were spread, revealing the pale pink sweetness that waited for him. Her pussy lips were flushed with arousal, that intimate part of her slick with proof of her desire. Even in the dim light of the room, he could see the glistening wetness on her folds. His mouth watered and he licked his lips, imagining the musky sweetness of her feminine cream as it slid over his taste buds.

Mason reached down and palmed his cock, giving himself a harsh squeeze to try and temper the harsh edge of his need. He ached to free himself, to sink into her over and over again until there was no telling their bodies apart.

He leaned down and prowled onto the bed, climbing between her thighs like a wolf on the hunt for sensual prey. In truth, he was a beast searching out a meal to sate his need. What the beast craved, it caught, and his next meal was laid out before him. He reached for her silken thighs, hands grasping her plump, soft flesh. He massaged her gently, taking his time to stare at Lucy, his gaze raking over the soft curve of her exposed breasts and pebbled nipples.

How many times had he imagined this moment? Having his mate splayed in front of him, ready and willing? Probably too many to count, and still his fantasies paled in comparison to the woman in front of him now.

“Mason,” she whined. “You’re driving me crazy.”

He wanted to laugh. Her desperation could only be a fraction of his own. The pounding of his heart, the answering throb of his cock, was nearly too much to bear. Still, he held his breath and reminded himself that tonight was for Lucy.

Tonight, she’d know ecstasy in a way she could never have imagined. His fangs descended at the thought and he growled low to himself, a reminder to keep his wolf in check. There would be time for more—for everything—later.

With one final glance at her incredible body, he lowered himself to the bed, lying between her spread thighs. He moved to his left first, kissing his way up her leg, pausing to lap at her skin and savor those sweet flavors. He eased higher, drawing nearer to that space he was drawn to, but he forced himself to turn to his right instead. He repeated the process, licking and nuzzling her flushed skin, breathing deeply and memorizing the intricate scent of her arousal.

With every lick, the scent of her desire clouded the air more and more. It intoxicated him, begging him without words to find her core and lap up every droplet of her cream.

She arched and writhed at his touch, twisting her hips and moving her body as if to force him to move where she needed him. She whimpered and whined as he traveled along her thighs, reaching the crease where her leg met her hips. So close to her pussy, right at that delicate skin. He nuzzled her, breathing deeply and savoring her musky scent.

His cock throbbed in his pants, the pulsing ache matching his heartbeat and sending a thumping need scorching through his veins. His balls were heavy between his legs, filled with cum he ached to spill into Lucy. Fill her with his scent, claim her with his body in every way possible.

But not yet. Soon, but not yet.

For now, he’d cherish everything she gave him. He turned his head, moving that last inch until her closely cropped curls teased the tip of his nose. Her wet slit was there and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He lapped at her soft, sweet core, gathering every hint of her salty-sweet musk. He tasted her hot, wet need, and she bucked against his lips.

“Mason,” she breathed out with a long sigh, but his next move turned that into a deep moan. He found her clit—that aching bundle of nerves swollen against his lips—and he circled the hard nub with his tongue. He flicked the small bit of flesh, movement hummingbird fast as he drove her pleasure higher and higher. She gripped the sheets, tugging and pulling on them with her white-knuckled grip.

He hummed, circling her over and over until she moved her hips in time with his mouth, silently willing him not to stop. She craved more and he wanted to be the one to give her all she desired.

Just not yet.

Mason eased away from her clit, giving it a last, sensuous lick before moving on to explore her feminine folds.

“I need,” she panted. “I need, I need…”

He knew what she needed as if they were one. He eased two fingers inside her slick channel, closing his eyes as her inner walls quaked around him. She ground into his touch, seeking out additional pleasure. He withdrew and pushed inside her once more, savoring her every moan and cry. He allowed a rumbling growl to come forward and flicked his tongue out to slowly circle her throbbing clit. The vibrations traveling into her, Lucy cried out with a soft gasp and a sharp yell.

“That’s it,” he paused to murmur. “Show me how much you like it.”

And she did. She rode his hand like she couldn’t get enough, like she couldn’t live without his touch. He imagined what she’d do to his cock when he finally shoved himself inside her. Harder and faster, she worked his fingers while he licked and teased her clit. He met her stroke for stroke as the rolling of her hips became desperate and frenzied.

Celia Kyle & Marina Maddix's books