Page 103 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“Fuck!” I rasped. She always felt incredible, but I was used to having to warm her up at least a little. While I wasn’t some comically long porn monster, I was still enough above average that we both preferred it if she came at least once before trying to put me inside. “Are you okay? We’re not going too fast?”

Instead of answering, she kissed me, and even though it was full of heat and teeth, it was also exactly right for the moment.

“I’m perfect,” she practically purred before sinking down those final couple of inches. “Need you so bad.”

My hands went to her soft waist, holding her there like she was my last lifeline. “Need you too.”

“Good.”

Neither of us were writing sonnets, but we didn’t need to, because she lifted her hips, rising nearly all the way off me before slamming back down again.

It was all too much. The feel of her breasts and her pebbled nipples sliding against me, those velvet walls of her pussy gripping me, the scent of her filling the air while her moans rang out like notes of an aria. It was a storm of pleasure and bliss, and I couldn’t believe I got to have this for the rest of my life.

Time grew to have no meaning as she moved against me, and in the haze of it all, I felt a bit like a spoiled prince. Not content to sit idle no matter how good it felt, I caressed her, traveling over all the spots she liked, and my mouth traded between ravishing her neck and worshipping her nipples.

The headboard banged against the wall, and I was so grateful I had a house, because if I lived in an apartment, my neighbors would have complained about the late-night percussion sessions.

It was wild and dizzying in its intensity, this celebration between the two of us. We’d faced something most couples never had to deal with it and had come out on the other side knowing more about each other.

“Fuck, Olivia, I’m getting close,” I admitted far too soon. If I had my way, we’d go on for hours, but I wasn’t sure my future wife’s knees and thighs would appreciate that. Then again, if she really was a werewolf, maybe she hadn’t even touched the depths of her stamina.

“Just a little longer,” she practically growled, her voice taking on a raspier quality that I only heard when she was deep in the throes of passion. Suddenly, realization hit me, and I wondered if I was hearing her wolf coming to the surface.

“I wanna see,” I blurted, which of course made no sense to anyone but me.

Olivia’s near-manic rhythm faltered. “H-huh?”

I touched her face.

“I wanna see the side of you that you’ve been hiding.”

She stilled, and as much as my body cried out for her to continue her rhythm, I held my breath, waiting for her response.

“But…”

Abruptly, I realized that what I asked may have been incredibly invasive. Or maybe even sacrilegious to her kind? There was so much I didn’t know, and I’d only guessed that it was something she could control voluntarily, so maybe it was best that I didn’t push boundaries.

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I just... I guess I’m still coming around on the fact that you finally know who I am.”

“I’ve always known who you are,” I assured. “This doesn’t change that at all. But when you’re ready to share that part of yourself with me, know that I am happily waiting for it.”

I probably shouldn’t have asked in such a vulnerable moment, but I was thinking with a combination of my dick and my heart rather than my head, and those two made a powerful tag team. But to my surprise, Olivia looked down, her breath increasing slightly before she lifted her head and locked eyes with me.

“Holy shit...” I breathed as I took in her nearly glowing, golden eyes, her elongated canines. Even the bones in her face had stretched and sharpened. Not in a horrific way, but inching toward an uncanny valley of dangerous, wild predator and affable human. Although I supposed uncanny wasn’t exactly the best way to describe it, and rather something like preternaturally beautiful. Enchantingly breathtaking. Otherworldly stunning.

“Sorry!” she said quickly, bringing her hands up to block her face from my sight, and that was when I noticed that her nails had grown, curving slightly and darkening at their base to resemble claws rather than a manicure.

But I caught her hands and pulled them down so I could lean upwards and kiss her more angular nose, those sharpened cheekbones, and finally her lips, which flared out slightly more because of the fangs she was sporting.

“You have nothing to apologize for, babe. You look incredible.”

She looked at me dubiously, and I swore I saw the pulse in her neck flutter. “Do you mean that?”

I gave her a bit of a look, knowing that I was smirking but unable to stop myself. “Can’t you tell?” I asked, gesturing to where I was still rock hard and pulsing inside her.

“Oh.”