Enchanted By The Wolf. Michele Hauf
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“And maybe not so tall?” Bea said as she wobbled behind the saleswoman back into the fitting room.
The next outfit was introduced with a jump as Bea landed expertly on heels half as high as the previous ones. She wore black suede thigh-high boots that were laced with white ribbons from thigh to ankle. The skimpy black dress was cut out at the torso to reveal both hips, and the neckline exposed her breasts nearly to the nipples.
“Now, this is me,” she said, sashaying before Kir. She bent over and flashed him a view up under her skirt. Hot-pink panties. “You like?”
Kir croaked, then he checked himself and sat up straighter, catching the saleswoman’s knowing smirk. “Uh-huh, that one’s good. Shows off your...fun. Right, your fun stuff.” He cleared his throat. “But you need more than one outfit. You can’t wear that all the time.”
“I’ll mostly be wearing nothing around the house, but if you insist...” Bea twirled into the dressing room and called for more, more and more.
Wearing nothing at all around the house? Kir could handle that. He’d probably have to put up curtains, though, since the neighbors’ yards hugged his closely. He didn’t want to risk anyone catching a glimpse of his naked and winged wife. He worked hard to maintain his secrecy among the humans. If they were to learn his true nature, it could affect not only him but the whole pack.
But he suspected Bea was going to be one hot little number to keep under control. Yet, if he could appease her with clothing and jewelry, he didn’t mind doing so. The joy and the utter delight she displayed at receiving such things went a long way toward securing his comfort with her.
Maybe this marriage thing wouldn’t be so awful. His new wife appealed to his lust. He wouldn’t mind having sex with her daily, if she was on board with that. The fangs were an issue, but he’d keep her in line. And he didn’t feel a hunger for blood, so he was crossing his fingers the doctor said he was in the clear. And she was self-sufficient, taking care of herself while he worked. So far, this marriage was a win-win situation.
Next up: a pink dress. It was made out of high-gloss latex that hugged her body and pushed up her small breasts nicely. Black thigh-high stockings that sported matching pink bows at the tops ended in pink heels as glossy as the dress. Kir gave the look two thumbs-up.
A punky black number with a big white cross slashed across the shirt that stopped just below her breasts was paired with tight red jeans that sported black zippers down the sides. Black sandals that exposed her delicately marked feet? Yes, please.
Bea danced out of the dressing room wearing a long sheer black dress that had patches of flowers embroidered here and there. The embroidery covered nipples and her crotch—and nothing else. She wore a black fedora pulled down over her eyes. Her hips shimmied seductively, having mastered control of the high, black heels. He could see almost everything beneath the dress, and what he couldn’t see he could imagine running his tongue over and tasting until she came in shouts of pleasure.
And faery dust. He absently brushed his fingers over a temple.
“My favorite,” he offered, setting the champagne goblet aside and focusing on the sashaying faery.
“You want me, werewolf?” she teased, dashing out her tongue and tipping up the brim of the hat with one finger. A nod of her head toward the dressing room spoke louder than any audible invite. “I sent the sales chick away for a bit.”
Kir lifted a brow. Here in the store? He had no argument with that; nor did his erection, which had sat up to take notice.
Standing, he tossed Bea over his shoulder and strode into the dressing room, closing the door behind them. The floor was scattered with dresses and various pieces of colorful clothing. Shoes toppled here and there. He stepped on a long heel and wobbled but landed an arm against the wall, pinning Bea’s back against the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
Pink eyes danced with his. He could feel her smile moving over his skin and teasing at his desires. He shimmied the long skirt up around her thighs as he dived against her neck to kiss up under her chin. She smelled like the perfume she’d been doused with upon entering the store. Chemical but a little spicy. He preferred her natural candy scent.
Grinding his hips against her mons, he milked a wanting moan from her. Her fingernails dug in at his shoulders. Yeah, he liked it rough. Kir growled and bit at the fabric over her breast. No time for complete undressing. He wanted inside Bea now.
Fortunately, the pink panties were history. With a flick of her fingers, she unbuttoned his leather pants and drew down the zip. He shuffled them down to his knees. Bea wrapped her legs about his hips and coaxed him closer.
As he glided inside of her, his wife said, “Oh, yeah, that’s the sweet spot, big boy. You’re so thick. You really want this, don’t you? Yes!”
He pumped inside her twice before he came in a shuddering, thundering orgasm. But he never forgot about the woman. Thumbing her clit as he came gave her a rousing cry of release only moments after his.
“I love shopping,” Bea said as she wilted against his chest, panting.
“Hell of a lot more interesting than I’d expected it to be.” Who the hell cared that Bea had been loud and the whole store might have heard?
“Whew! We’re going to have to buy this dress now that it’s gotten a workout.”
“I have no problem with that at all. You think you got enough for a while?”
“Enough? Hardly...” She glided her hand down to her breasts and fluttered her lashes at him. “Oh! You mean clothes, not sex. I’m good. But let’s hit the jewelry store next. I need some sparkly things.”
Kir laughed against her hair as he felt his erection soften while still sheathed within her. She was already at the next store, and he was just getting his breath back. The woman liked sex. But maybe it was like candy to her. She wanted more and more and could eat it or not, but never refused a treat if offered.
Pulling out and zipping up, he stepped back as she tugged down the dress skirt and sorted through the shoes on the floor. He ran his fingers through her hair lightly; she didn’t notice the touch.
“You know what you want?” he asked.
She popped upright, her pink eyes flashing on him like some kind of Christmas lights inviting him closer for a present.
“I mean with the clothes,” he said. Stroking a hand down his chest, he took some pride in the fact that she wanted him. But upon inspecting his hand, he noted the faery dust.
“Everything,” she said, nodding, hands on her hips. “Absolutely everything.”
* * *
Bea sat on the king-size bed surrounded by clothing, jewels and shoes. She’d never thought personal items could mean so much, but these frilled, glossy and sparkling bits of pretty were all hers. No one could take them away.
She pulled the T-shirt with the rhinestone skull emblazoned on the front over her head. Who would have thought mortal fabrics could feel so sensual against the skin? The pink panties with the bright purple bows at each hip were more decorative than to actually cover anything. Didn’t matter. She wore them because they were pretty. And the