Howl (Monster Boyfriends #1)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

RAEGAN

M y mouth immediately goes dry. I forgot he can smell…everything.

Jamie’s eyes are dark with desire, the typical warm brown color fading to that of a midnight sky.

“I can help you with that,” he says, voice lower than usual. Those dark eyes dart to my thighs as I press them tightly together.

I paused the current chapter of my book before coming down the stairs, needing a break from the intensely descriptive cunnilingus scene I’d just listened to. The spice scene snuck up on me while putting away the last of my clothes into drawers, and without realizing it, instead of picturing the book’s love interest with his face between the main character’s legs, I was very clearly picturing Jamie.

“What’s it about?” he asks.

“W-what?”

“The book,” he clarifies. “What is the book about?”

I nervously play with the plastic wrapping I just pulled from a pack of crackers. I’d come downstairs for a snack, and a bit of a breather, but now I don’t feel all that hungry anymore.

“It’s a romance,” I tell him sheepishly.

He grins wickedly and takes a step forward. “Can I listen?”

I want to say no, but what is there to hide? He already knows what it is, and definitely knows what it’s done to me. I slip one of my earbuds out and hand it to him tentatively. After he places it in ear, I double tap the other to signal playback.

I stand painfully still while the scene continues to play out in both our ears. I’m listening to the same words he is, so whenever his right hand grips the counter just a little bit tighter, I know exactly which part made him do so.

After what feels like an agonizing five minutes, he removes the ear bud and hands it back to me. “Sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”

My gaze drops to the floor. I’m too embarrassed to meet his eyes. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Jamie would know what he’s doing in that category. Based solely on the skill of his hands, I think his mouth could definitely hold its own.

As if reading my mind, he takes my chin in his fingers and lifts my face so I’m looking at him once more. “I bet I could do better.”

My breath hitches. “Jamie.”

Now he’s flush against me, right back in the same spot we were before.

Hearing him speak to me in such a provocative manner rattles me. I want to hear more of it, but at the same time my body naturally wants to shy away from his crude words. I’ve never been spoken to like this before, not like the men I read about in my books.

“What is it, lemon?” he asks gently, lowering his hand to stroke the tender skin along the column of my neck. “Does it make you uncomfortable, me talking about pleasuring you?”

I shake my head. It’s not that his words make me uncomfortable. I’m just nervous, and I’m unsure how to act when we’re slowly crossing these boundaries one by one. This is my sweet friend, Jamie—the one who has seen me cry, laughed with me, laughed at me, the man whose hug feels like home. Now that same friend is talking to me in a language I’ve never heard before.

A language I could get used to.

Jamie’s forehead drops to mine, and I watch through lowered lashes as his shoulders rise and fall, breathing me in. I wish I knew what my scent smelled like to him. Being human, my olfaction abilities are abysmal compared to his. While I can take simple pleasure in his musky smell of maple and damp soil, Jamie is able to bask in every molecule of me . I can’t imagine what that must be like.

His mouth moves slowly to the shell of my ear as he whispers, “You never need to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed with me, Raegan.” Then he pulls away to meet my eyes. “I just want to take care of you. Whether it’s going bed shopping or being there when you’re anxious.” He removes his other hand from the counter and traces a line beneath my sweatshirt starting at my hip and up my waist, then trailing beneath my breast. “Or simply making you feel good.” Everything Jamie does makes me feel good. “Do you want me to do that for you?”

I’m not wearing a bra, so my eyes flutter closed when his thumb grazes my peaked nipple. I hear the tell-tale growl in the back of his throat, meaning he’s waiting to pounce. I’ve never had a man go down on me before—the act has always felt a bit too intimate for a non-serious relationship—but after picturing what was being read to me by the narrators of my spicy audiobook, I want Jamie to do it.

There’s part of me that worries the farther we go with this, the farther we’ll get from what we were, but then I remember what Joanna told me. No matter what happens between Jamie and me, there’s no scenario in which I lose him as a friend. It’s going to take time figuring out this new dynamic between us, so why not have fun while I do? Take that test drive.

“Jamie.” I breathe his name in as I fill my lungs with air then release it slowly.

“Yes.”

“Make me feel good.”

The command hits his mark, but he doesn’t immediately start ravishing me like before. Instead, he takes my hand and guides me to the living room. I follow obediently, and when he gestures for me to sit on the couch, I do so eagerly.

He kneels to the floor and hooks his fingers around the waistbands of my pants and underwear. “Can I take these off?”

I nod and lift my hips. The pants are loose and come off easily as he drags the soft, stretchy material over my hips and down my legs.

Though I’m still not used to being completely bare to him, I’m less unsure than the first time. Now I understand the authenticity behind his desire to take care of me. He truly means it in every sense of the word, and I think I’ve officially decided to let him.

His mouth moves to my inner thigh and I shudder at the feel of his lips on such sensitive skin. His fingers had been enough to nearly drive me insane, so how am I going to survive his mouth on me? I need to concentrate on something else or I might become overstimulated too quickly, so I grab at the collar of his shirt. “Take this off.”

Jamie looks up at me with wild eyes. “Yes ma’am.”

He grabs the back of his shirt collar and yanks it over his head seamlessly, leaving me with the stunning view of his shoulder muscles as he leans back down into position between my thighs. He doesn’t ask me to remove my sweatshirt, and I’m grateful. I don’t think I’m quite ready to be completely naked in front of him.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, lemon.”

There’s no room for interpretation with that nickname. It’s not cute or teasing. It sounds lustful and completely focused, but that might be because he’s currently perched between my legs and ready to devour me like his favorite dessert.

I heed his command, eager to feel something besides the cool air against my wet core. Jamie lifts one of my legs over his shoulder and starts by sliding his hand from the back of my knee to the apex of my thighs, his eyes following the journey. When his thumb reaches the wetness surrounding my clit, I bite my bottom lip. He glides through my lips, thumb coated in my arousal just like before, only this time he doesn’t dip inside me. He takes his time tracing the contours of my body. Finally, he meets my eyes with a wild hunger, and I brace myself.

His lips are featherlight at first—a gentle touch to ease me into the feel of them. Then his tongue darts out and licks from bottom to top. The sensation is incomparable. It feels good, but it’s too subtle. In order to truly feel pleasure, I need the opposite. I need firm, deliberate pressure.

I squirm under him, teetering along the line of uncomfortable sensitivity. Jamie clearly knows I’ve never done this before, but instead of going about his business and ignoring my nonverbal cues, he stops.

“What do you need?”

I adjust my hips so I’m slanted further into the couch, giving him better access. “It’s too soft.”

His tongue darts out to lick my wetness from his lips and the corner of his mouth turns up in a knowing smirk. I hope he isn’t about to make fun of me.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his eyes appearing almost iridescent, alight with desire. “I know what you need.”

He takes both hands and grabs my ass to hold me in place. This time when his tongue carves its path, he doesn’t just lick, he presses down firmly, and this ignites a sensational flutter in my stomach muscles.

One of my hands finds its way to the soft strands of his hair, while the other grips the couch. When he reaches my clit, he sucks with his whole mouth and my hips buck involuntarily, but his hands hold me steady and force me back in place. The harder his tongue works the harder it is to keep my thighs apart, and I want so badly to press them together and ride that insatiable ache that’s building in my core.

I need something solid to grind against, and as much as I’m loving the feel of his tongue pressing into my clit, it’s not enough. Instinctively, he slides two fingers into my heat, filling the empty ache that’s lingered there.

As much as it feels good, I want to grab him and pull him to me. I want to feel the weight of him on top of me. He’s created a rhythm that my body is following, and the beginnings of an orgasm have started to build deep beneath the surface, but it’s going to take more than this to finish it.

Somehow, Jamie already knows my body like the palm of his own hand, because that’s what he’s using now to press firmly against my clit, rubbing endless circles until I’m panting and clenching my thighs together. He gets up from the floor and perches a knee on the cushions beside me, his free hand moving to the back of the couch to hold himself steady while still maintaining the same circling pressure between my legs.

He navigates me through the height of my orgasm, up, up, up, until his lips meet mine, and I can taste myself on his tongue.

I’m still spiraling as he slows his movements. Yet again, I am undone by this man, and I don’t even know where to start when it comes to the daunting task of putting myself back together.