...“Now I understand what brought me to you.” He inhaled deeply, the scent of her familiar, conjuring memories of how he’d sought her in the woods, wanting what had eluded him for weeks. He didn’t want to see her upset, but he wanted to catch the scent of her human feelings. Underneath what she’d tried to mask, she was still herself. “I needed this.”

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Needed what?”

“To feel human when I was an animal on the run,” he answered. “When I could smell your scent and find you, it helped me change faster when it was necessary.” With a single finger he lifted her chin and searched her glassy eyes in darkness, recalling all the evenings he’d waited for her to walk out and meet him. Names hadn’t mattered, everyday lives hadn’t been part of the equation, but he’d come to her and she’d come to him. In the summer heat in a paper thin dress, in the autumn in a flannel night shirt, she’d always met him. She’d still belonged to someone else in the beginning, her heart unsure when her body knew what it wanted.

“Jen,” he whispered. Her bare skin was too warm and silky to deny his touch. “I needed you.”

“I needed you, too.” She looked up at him and smiled. “And I didn’t even think you were real.”

A laugh escaped just as he cupped her face in his hands. “Why didn’t you think I was real?”

She gripped his wrists and slowly closed her eyes, rubbing her cheek against the palm of his hand. “Because I’m not the kind of girl who finds a midnight tryst in the woods.”

“What are the requirements for trysts these days?” He kissed her softly on the lips.

Jen rose onto the tips of her toes and met him for another, harder kiss. “Probably long, blond hair, blue eyes, and an obnoxious giggle.”

“Then I’m not really the tryst type myself.” He wound a strand of her thick, silky hair around his finger and released it. “This is what I like.”

She exhaled, her lips parted, the tip of her tongue slowly flicking out. With her eyes closed, she stood before him, the tips of her heaving breasts pebbled and demanding his attention.

He cupped her breasts and kneaded them in the palms of his hands, memorizing the fullness and the silken warmth of her flesh against his.

“This is what I want,” he murmured between hungry kisses, teasing her nipples, molding her beneath his touch until she groaned for more. He listened to her, alternating between rough pinches and softer strokes as her breathing turned harsh, her hips thrusting toward his. The scent of her arousal filled the air around them and his cock responded with a twitch.

Jen wrapped her arms around him and scraped her nails down his back, electrifying him with the urgency in her touch. She grabbed his hips, pressed her fingers into his ass cheeks and pushed him closer, as though she couldn’t wait to feel him. His dick rubbed against her flat belly, rock hard and painfully neglected.

With a growl he took her by the hand and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing cock, but she let go and bit his lower lip.

“I know what you want.”

She pushed against his chest with both hands until he stood up against the cold wall. Before he had time to register what had happened, she’d started down his body, kissing and licking her way along his chest and stomach until she knelt before him.

The anticipation stilled him and he swallowed hard, watching as she tortured him with gentle, butterfly kisses around his navel and the coarse hair between his legs. She nuzzled him, stroking his sac and the base of his dick, but giving him nothing else. He was under her control now, a pet that would be rewarded when she desired—and, God, he hoped she would give him something before he died from lack of blood flow.

“You smell like us,” she said, inhaling him. The tip of her tongue ran along the head of his dick and lapped away the lubrication before it dripped down. “You taste like us, too.”

“Jen,” he breathed her name, unable to say another word. She had him right where he couldn’t possibly move or think, and he couldn’t decide if it was a brilliant plan or pure torment on her part.