When I came back to earth the second time, Jack was kissing my shoulder, soothing the small bite mark with his tongue. His cock was still filling me, almost to the point of pain. I wiggled and he eased us both backward until he was sitting on his heels with me resting atop his thighs. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, and he kissed the top of my head.
“You’re still hard,” I managed to whisper. I leaned my head back against his chest, not really in any hurry to move.
“I will be for several minutes,” he said quietly. “It’s a wolf characteristic, one that happens sometimes. The head of my cock swells at the moment of orgasm. It keeps me lodged inside for a while. If I tried to pull out now, you’d tear, and even though you’d heal the wound, I’d rather not cause you pain.” He dropped a few more kisses on my hair and my ear. “Besides, this is nice. Why would I want to go anywhere yet?”
It was nice sitting there wrapped in his warmth and his strength, even if the position wasn’t the most comfortable. Besides, who was I to argue about werewolf physiology? “Does that mean you never have sex with humans?”
His chuckle was warm and indulgent, his breath warm on my ear. He kissed my cheekbone before replying. “No. Like I said, it only happens occasionally—only when the body and subconscious recognize a partner who’s a particularly good physical and emotional match.”
A particularly good match? What a compliment. I digested that with a giddy smile I was glad he couldn’t see, but then my curiosity got the best of me. “Has it ever happened before?”
He chuckled again and I could almost feel him roll his eyes behind my back. “You sure you want to talk about previous partners just now?”
I shrugged, not wanting to push. What were you supposed to talk about right after the best sex of your life?
Jack rained a line of kisses from my ear to my throat and took pity on me. “Twice.”
“Twice?” I wasn’t even sure he was still talking about the same thing.
“It’s happened to me twice. With two different partners, I mean. Once, when I was in my twenties I met a human witch and fell in love. The swelling—we call it a mating knot—happened with her.”
“But she was human…”
“That’s right,” he continued. “But I loved her anyway. Her name was Laura. We got married. She died from typhoid two years later. She was three months pregnant.”
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” I said, reaching behind me to squeeze one shoulder. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “It was a long time ago and old wounds do heal, eventually. The other was a French werewolf named Celine. I met her during the First World War. We had one incredible night together then never saw each other again.”
“Wow.” I really had no idea how to respond to that, so I just leaned my head back against his chest and enjoyed the sensation of him still filling me. “This is awfully nice.”
He nibbled on my ear. “I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be.”
We were silent for a while then a little later I remembered something I’d wanted to say. “I’m sorry I bit you.”
Jack chuckled, a soft sound that vibrated around and through me. “I’m not. I’m well aware that means you were having a good time too.”
Good time? What an understatement. “You seem to know a lot about vampires.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “Have you been with many?”
“Jealous?” He chuckled again then gave me a squeeze. “I’m over two hundred years old, sweet thing. Werewolves are pretty sexual creatures. Yes, I’ve fucked more than a couple of vamps in my time. Men and women.”
Now that shocked me. I tried to spin to face him but only managed to turn my head. “Men?”
His broad shoulders shifted behind me in a shrug. “Two centuries gives a guy a lot of time to experiment. I quit having hang-ups about sex a long, long time ago. As long as everyone is having a good time, I’m willing to give it a go.”
“Hmmm.” I should have been horrified, not intrigued, but my experience was so limited. I’d spent years as little more than a sex slave but, honestly, Frederic had never done much more than fuck me, slap me around a little and leave. He’d been dominant but never particularly creative with any of his harem. Even with him I’d wondered from time to time if it might be fun to pleasure him and one of his friends at the same time. Just as I’d offered to let him tie me up. That had earned me his disgust for months. My decades with him had done nothing but reinforce the teachings of the strict Greek grandmother who had reared me. Bad girls got punished. The one time I’d rebelled, it was to run away with Frederic. And look where that had gotten me.
“Come on, Ari. You have to admit, vanilla sex can get a little old after a while.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a whole lot of experience.” I wasn’t used to anyone calling me by that nickname—no one had since my grandmother, a long, long time ago. But the way Jack said it, it sounded almost like a caress, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him not to.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. As hot as you are? How old are you anyway?” He chafed my arms with his hands and nibbled playfully on my ear. “I’m starting to think I’m robbing the cradle.”
“Today is my hundredth birthday,” I replied. “That’s why I let my friends talk me into going out to celebrate.”
“Hmm. I owe those two.”