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I had forgotten.
I had forgotten how fucking wild this dragon could be.
I had forgotten how easily he could get me off.
And I had forgotten how wonderful I felt when I was around him.
I turned around and leaned over the back of the sofa, placing my hands on the cushions. The back of the couch pressed right against my belly, but I was tall enough that my feet stayed on the floor.
Salem positioned himself behind me, and I felt his cock nudging at my entrance.
“Spread your legs, cupcake.”
I stepped apart a little, and he ran his nails down my back and over my ass.
“You look so fucking perfect, Miranda.”
I groaned at his words, biting my lip to keep from telling him I loved him. That was all I wanted to do, suddenly. I told myself it was the orgasm messing with my brain, but I knew it was more than that.
I knew it was him that I wanted.
I knew that I’d always wanted him.
“Your pussy is so wet,” he murmured, sliding his cock up and down against my skin. I wanted to push back against him, wanted him to fill me, but I forced myself to stay still and to savor the moment.
That was what I needed to do.
I needed to savor what was happening.
He gripped my hips, then, and he, too, held still.
“Tell me what you want, Miranda.”
“I want you,” I whispered before I could stop myself. It sounded far too romantic for the moment, but I did. I wanted him. I wanted all of him.
I wanted to move back into this damn cottage, and I wanted to hang out with Salem’s cat, and I wanted to just get to be a normal shifter for once in my damn life.
I’d grown up in foster care and before Winchester and I had been adopted by the nicest mother anyone could have ever hoped for, I’d felt lost and afraid and like nothing was ever going to go my way.
And then I’d met Salem, and he’d given me hope.
I wanted to reclaim that hope.
Only, right now, I wanted more than that, too.
I wanted his damn cock, and I knew he was going to make me say it because Salem loved games, and Salem had the most self-control of anyone I’d ever met. I knew that if I didn’t give him what he wanted, he’d stay here like this just holding me in place, making me wiggle and sweat and beg. I’d have to say what he wanted me to say because that was the part of this experience that was fun.
It was the anticipation.
It was the dance.
“I want you, too, Miranda, but you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I whispered.
Hard.
Fast.
Rough.
Right here in the living room.
That was what I wanted.
He leaned down, pressing his lips against my ear, and he nipped at my flesh.
“Try again, pretty girl. We’ve got all night.”
I swallowed hard.
“Salem, I want you to give me your dick,” I whispered, and he licked my ear before whispering to me.
“All you had to do was ask, cupcake.”
He stood up straight, grabbed my hips once more, and thrust into me hard and fast, filling me.
And that time, I did cry out.
I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t help the noises that were coming out of my mouth. I wasn’t embarrassed by what was happening. Rather, I was swept up in the passion, in the heat of the moment, and I felt myself start to float away.
As Salem thrust deeper and deeper into me, I closed my eyes. He slipped one hand between my legs, stroking my clit.
“I don’t know if I can come again,” I protested lightly, wiggling. The only thing I ended up doing was taking him deeper inside of me, though, and he knew this.
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure that you can,” he chuckled.
“Salem...”
“Come for me, pretty girl.”
“Salem...”
“Come with me, cupcake.”
And then...
And then I did.
My body seemed to take on a life of its own as I came, once again feeling like I was floating up to the damn stars. I felt him coming inside of me, too, filling me, and then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my back.
“You’re perfect, Miranda.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant to say that out loud.