Read Online Fur Factor by Christine Warren - Free Book Online Page B

a moan when his hand slid lower and eased open her swollen folds. Her moan changed to a gasp when he buried his face in her curls and inhaled deeply.
    “And you smell even better.”
    His murmur had become a growl, and when he slid his tongue along the path of his fingers, Missy echoed it with a breathless cry. He circled her clit in a wave of hot, moist sensation before dipping into her center and drinking her wetness. Her free hands slid into his hair and cradled him to her while his tongue drove her crazy. Her nerve-endings seesawed between pleasure and pain for a brief second until his head came up.
    “You’re hurt,” he said, the growl back in his voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Christine Warren
    Fur Factor
    39
    “About what?” She barely recognized her voice, as breathless and soft and drugged as it sounded.
    “About the fact that I hurt you,” he grumbled, pulling back from her and sliding off the bed. “From now on, I expect you to tell me.” He scooped her up in his arms and stalked into the bathroom while she was still trying to reconnect the synapses he’d blown with his clever tongue. As soon as the darned things got back into working order, she was going to get mad. The man was growling at her because of something he had done! Logic, anyone? She glared up at him from the edge of the bathtub where he set her down. “As I recall, you weren’t real interested in anything I had to say at the time you were making me sore, Conan.” Graham scowled at her and turned on the faucet, testing the temperature before plugging up the drain and letting the tub fill with steaming water. “Next time, say it louder.”
    She crossed her arms over her chest to still the hopeful flutter inside. “Is there going to be a next time?”
    “Damn straight,” he retorted. “It’s just a matter of how soon before it happens.” He turned his back and rummaged under the sink, coming back with a paper, milk-carton-looking container labeled, “Epsom Salts.” He dumped a handful into the tub and stirred to dissolve the crystals.
    Missy watched and brooded. “Are you always this dictatorial?” she finally ventured.
    Graham twisted off the taps with a grunt. “I am now, so get used to it.” Without waiting for an invitation, Missy eased herself down into the water. Naked under water, even clear water, was better than naked in plain sight. She winced when the heat stung her raw skin. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The werewolf looked down at her with a hard expression. “That you’ll be spending quite a lot of time with me, so you’d better get used to my foibles.” Her eyes widened, but she couldn’t tell if they did it because of his abrupt declaration, or because he punctuated his words by stripping off his jeans and sliding into the tub with her.
    The oversized, old claw-foot was plenty big enough for the both of them, as long as they didn’t mind touching. Graham obviously didn’t. He settled his large frame into the opposite end of the tub and stretched out his legs on either side of hers until his feet rested on the outside of her thighs. He draped his arms over the sides of the tub and pinned her with a probing stare. “How does this feel?” Missy wrenched her gaze from his damp chest, complete with its rough-smooth mat of hair and the flat brown nipples that made her mouth water. “How does what feel?”
    His expression softened infinitesimally, and his mouth quirked up at one corner.
    “The bath. Is it helping any?”

    Christine Warren
    Fur Factor
    40
    Hoping her blush could be blamed on the heat, she nodded and sank up to her chin.
    “It’s lovely. Thanks.”
    “Good.”
    They soaked in silence for a few minutes while Missy tried to figure out what event had landed her in this alternate universe, because she didn’t want to accidentally repeat it and get herself tossed back into reality. She much preferred the existence where sexy, charming werewolves fell head-over-heels in