A Study on the Sex Life of a Werewolf's Mate

chapter 11:Rough Day?

"Rough day," he asked dryly against her hair. She groaned again, snaking her arms around his waist and burrowing her flushed cheek against his broad chest. But even the steady thrum of his heartbeat did little to soothe her frayed temper.

No, she was entirely too worked up.

He grunted, his arms circling tight around her, clearly discomfited. But she didn't mind. She had long since accepted that he wasn't the most verbose and never really seemed to know what to say when she got in such moods, though he tried his best for her sake, making up for it by listening and just letting her rant and rave and let all the poison out, as it were.

Either that, or turning to his favoured response to simply put it from her mind in other, far more satisfying ways.

Wasn't that an idea.

Chapter Text
She slammed the door behind her, shucking her work robes off with such force she was likely to find a tear or two when she calmed down enough to put them away properly. Tossing her bag down onto the crumpled pile of fabric she buried her face in her hands and screamed out her frustrations through clenched teeth.

Bigoted, doddering, antiquated, pig-headed, short-sighted, blustering old. . .

She groaned at the feel of his hands smoothing along her neck and up into the messy remnants of the braid she'd so meticulously wrestled her hair into before she'd left for work that morning, his calloused fingertips massaging at her scalp and his nose dropping to breathe deeply against her crown followed shortly by his lips.

"Rough day," he asked dryly against her hair. She groaned again, snaking her arms around his waist and burrowing her flushed cheek against his broad chest. But even the steady thrum of his heartbeat did little to soothe her frayed temper.

No, she was entirely too worked up.

He grunted, his arms circling tight around her, clearly discomfited. But she didn't mind. She had long since accepted that he wasn't the most verbose - she'd even come to appreciate it, truthfully - and never really seemed to know what to say when she got in such moods, though he tried his best for her sake, making up for it by listening and just letting her rant and rave and let all the poison out, as it were.

Either that, or turning to his favoured response to simply put it from her mind in other, far more satisfying ways.

Wasn't that an idea.

Squirming out of his arms, she shoved hard at his chest. Caught off guard - or perhaps just indulging her, she really didn't care just then - he stumbled back against the door with a startled grunt as she launched herself at him, winding her arms around his neck and burying her hands into his hair to claim his mouth.

If he was surprised, he didn't stay that way long. Immediately, he was kissing her back, all teeth and tongue and feral hunger. His fingers dug into her own hair, the last of her braid giving up as he hauled her closer against his hard body, canting his very clear, very insistent arousal against her stomach. Liquid heat pooled swiftly between her thighs and she moaned into his mouth, clamping them together against the needy throb surging to life between them.

Hands tugged and tore at garments, their fingers tangling at the fastenings of his waistband. He groaned, low and viscerally, tearing his mouth from hers to nip his mark at the juncture of her shoulder as her hands closed around his cock.

"Pet," he warned, the word nearly lost in his growl against her skin. She paid it little mind, nipping sharply at the underside of his throat in challenge. She wanted to push him.

And then his hand was between her legs and with a sharp sting her panties had been yanked down and his fingers were determinedly working their way deep inside her cunt. She whined and shoved his hand away. He growled, baring his teeth against her neck. But she just hauled his mouth back to hers, hiking a leg up around his thickly muscled thigh to rock insistently against him while dragging his hand around to the flesh of her arse, making it very clear what she wanted.