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“W-What happened to being tired from patrol?” you murmur, tilting your head back. Despite his disheveled state, his eyes are alight with wicked interest.

“Thought I’d be nice and be your wakeup call,” he says, thumbing your pebbled nipple, as if to prove his point. “‘Sides… let me be romantic for once.” His other hand joins the fray, delving in between the gap in your legs.

“Shit,” he curses lowly once he realizes you’re wearing nothing but his shirt. “Really?”

“Just in case,” you say softly, a contrast to the now eager swoop of his fingers delving into you, his low groan at the damp heat that eagerly parts around him.

“Barely did anything and you’re already wet.” His voice is breathless with wonder. “God. What did I do to deserve…?”

“I think you can, ah, ask the universe that.”

“You’re right,” he nods sagely, and you would laugh at the serious tone he’s taken if his thick fingers weren’t knuckle deep in you, making your breath hitch with every nudge against your pliant walls. “I’ll have to thank the higher powers for all this werewolf stuff. Imprinting, soulmates—makes it a lot easier to find someone to put up with me.”

Your snort turns into a keen once Embry’s thumb comes up to stroke circles against your engorged clit. Your hand grasps his, and his motions stop, and soon his nose nudges against your neck. Asking for permission.

“Please—don’t stop—“

He laughs again, renewing his motions with a vigor.

As you whine and buck into his hand, it’s not lost to you that the stiff heat pressing against your back is the sign that Embry is just as affected by your reactions. He does always say that he’s a giver; even if the statement is often accompanied with a wry grin as he tends to your needs. He’s subtle, only canting his hips lightly against your backside; if you hadn’t been paying attention, you wouldn’t have noticed.

You jut your ass out, rubbing against his bulge, and he lets out a shaky groan. Then your hand is moving behind you, searching for the hem of his shorts.

You find it, yanking the fabric down as Embry shimmies his hips, helping you in disrobing him. You’re surprised to feel how hard he is already, and glance back to prove your findings.

“Just in case,” he throws your words back at you. “I came prepared.” His grin fades once you start stroking him in earnest. “God…” His hand stills in its movements for a moment, and you sigh impatiently.

“Embry,” you say sternly, “I told you earlier—don’t stop.”

You don’t miss the way his cock twitches in your palm, or the soft fuck, that’s hot that he mutters. “Y-yes ma’am.”

It continues like this: you clumsily stroking Embry with one hand, him fucking into you with his fingers, mimicking how he would like to plunge into you with his cock. That is, until you shift upwards onto the bed, parting your legs and slipping his length in between your thighs till it rests against your engorged labia. Embry’s fingers retreat from inside you, leaving a trail of your juices across your skin as he grasps your hip, his other hand wrist bent awkwardly to keep stroking your nub.

You begin jerking him off in earnest, lightly tapping the head of his cock against your soaked entrance with every upward caress. Embry groans, thrusting his hips into your palm once, then twice, before he stills. The thick, warm viscousness of his cum dribbles along your fingers before you guide him to your entrance, inserting just the tip as Embry’s legs jerk, his cock spraying ropes against your inner walls.

He presses down hard on your clit and you come with a cry, vaguely registering his grunts as your walls constrict around him. Your vision turns white, pleasure crescendoing and centering around the bundle of nerves between your thighs. You vaguely register telling him to stop, your hand clamping down on his. When you come to, it’s to the sound of Embry panting against your neck, to the feel of your combined fluids oozing between your two bodies.

He sighs happily.

“Good?”

“It’s always good,” he mumbles, resting his forehead on your shoulder as his cock softens in your hand. “Magical, if I’m being honest.”

You laugh. “You turn into a wolf and you’re calling this magic?”

He gives you an offended look. “Yeah, babe. Your body, our connection? It’s unreal.”

“A close second,” he adds. “To killing vampires.”

You smack his chest lightly. “Just second?”

“Tied first,” he amends.

You raise a brow. A squeeze to his oversensitive length that has him inhaling sharply. “Better reconsider what’s better. I still have you right where I want you.”