With nothing between us, I reached down and positioned him between my legs, making him groan. He pushed into me slowly as our sleepy hands roved each other’s bodies.
My breath hitched and my eyelids drooped at the feeling of him inching deeper inside me. The sensation that had been foreign to me the night before now felt so familiar, so right. I tilted my hips, finding that sweet spot inside me that made my toes curl. He gripped my waist tighter and rolled his hips, his mouth parting against mine as he groaned. Gods, that sound, that silenced groan, that hint of a growl that disappeared into a heaving breath. I could come from that sound alone, knowing how I made him feel, and it made my core flutter around him.
I pushed on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back and keeping him buried inside of me. His hands found my hips as I stared down into his lust-filled eyes and parted lips. I lifted and lowered slowly, feeling every spot inside me that he touched. One of his hands drifted from my hip to my pulsing clit and began circling me.
I moaned, my nipples tightening as I rode him faster, grinding into his fingers as I chased my release, knowing now exactly how to take my pleasure from him as well as I knew how to give it. He thrust up, my breasts bouncing as I met each of his pumps, our rhythm growing frenzied. I clawed my fingers down his chest, trying to fight that maddening pull within me, like the heavy rip of waves pulling back out to sea.
He thrust deeper, bucking me up and down, as his fingers circled my clit faster. I cried out as my climax roared through me, shuddering ecstasy from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes. Grae groaned, that glorious sound heightening my pleasure, as his breathing faltered and he came inside of me. I rode him through those rolling waves of pleasure, wringing out the last of our releases, before finally collapsing onto his sweaty chest.
I traced slow kisses over his collarbone, a wicked grin on my face. “Now we can go.”
We ran another hour north, our Wolves easily closing the distance to the Olmderian capital. We stuck to the eastern forests that wove around the fjords before cutting inland toward the city and the towering castle in the center of the lake. Farmhouses appeared through the trees, and we shifted back into human form.
My bare feet padded across the mossy forest floor. I brushed my hair over my shoulder and glanced back at Grae. The claw marks down his chest were gone, but the heat in his eyes remained, along with the clear evidence of his arousal.
I smirked, shaking my head. “We need to find you some clothes.”
His proud grin was all Wolf.
My hands trailed over the underbrush, and I paused at a bush covered in crimson berries. Serilberries. I popped a few ripe ones in my mouth. They were very sour raw, usually cooked with honey, but the zing on my tastebuds woke me up and freshened my mouth.
They were used for flavoring recipes and in many medicines, too. All the known spots to forage serilberries in Allesdale were picked clean each season . . . but out here, far from any town, little red fruits filled the bush. They would probably be a worthy payment for whoever we took clothes from. I snapped five branches laden with berries and kept walking with the bouquet in my hands.
Another half hour down the trail, we finally passed a house with washing on the line—trousers, tunics, dresses, and aprons. I had no clue if the sizes were right, but they’d have to do. We heard people talking in the barn, but it was obscured from view by the house and I prayed no one would walk around the bend.
We approached the garden hedge, crouching and peeking over the untrimmed shrubs.
Grae glanced sideways at me, a mischievous grin curving his lips as if we were children playing a prank. “Ready?”
I gave a quick nod and we darted out to the clothesline, snatching a bundle of garments. I dropped three serilberry branches as payment and darted back to cover.
I threw on a tunic that hung down to my knees and stepped into the trousers. They were far too big on me, even with my wide hips and large thighs, so I threaded the tunic through the belt loops and tied the ends in a knot. They were also far too long and I had to roll the hem up seven times before my feet poked out of the fabric.
Grae, on the other hand, was nearly bursting out of his clothes. His muscled arms and shoulders stretched the fabric at the seams until gaps of his golden-brown skin peeked through the stitching. He’d also snagged a tattered cloak off the line, and, clasped around his neck, it only hung to his knee. At least the hood would be deep enough to hide his face. If Rooks were looking for him on the road, they’d be looking in the capital, too.
I shook my head. We were a sorry-looking pair, but it would have to do. We’d find Galen den’ Mora in the city and get our proper clothes and weapons back.