A psychotic break? Maybe.
Or did I inhale some psychedelic mushroom spores?
Something was clearly very wrong with me, though. Because I was not only seeing a naked man, but feeling him on me.
My breasts, heaving with all the running, were pinned to his wide, strong chest.
My hips were under his.
And, well, wasn’t that his hardness pressed against my lower stomach?
It was time for that panic that I’d known a moment before. But it didn’t seem to be building.
All I felt was a strange sort of disconnection and almost… peace.
Peace?
No.
No, that made no sense.
I couldn’t be feeling calm with a strange, naked man on top of me with a raging hard-on while we were alone in the woods where there was no hope of anyone coming to save me.
Except I didn’t really feel the need to be saved right then.
I felt almost, I don’t know, drunk, or hypnotized or… I had no idea. I had no past reference for what I was feeling as I looked up into the face of a man who had just been a… wolf.
A big, scary, beautiful gray wolf with yellow-brown eyes.
But the man?
The man was somehow just as scary and beautiful with gray streaked through his dark hair and yellow in his brown eyes.
His face was chiseled with these impressive cheekbone hollows, a stern brow, a scar down his left cheek, and just the right amount of scruff.
“Mine,” he growled before his head lowered, and his lips claimed mine.
And, well, I damn sure felt like I was his right then as his lips bruised into mine, as his teeth scraped my lower lip, as his tongue moved inside to toy with mine.
I should have been writhing and raking my hands over him and biting and kicking and trying to get him off of me.
All I did, though, was melt into the moment.
All I did was kiss him back.
And, sure, there was some writhing, but it was not the “get me out of here” sort. It was more of the “wow, this feels good, and I need more” sort.
When my fingers did eventually rake down his back, it wasn’t to hurt him, but to find the muscles swell of his ass and sink my fingertips into it, holding him more tightly against me as my legs parted and let him slide between.
His cock felt thicker and longer pressed against the most intimate part of me. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from grinding my hips up against him.
I needed that friction, that promise of relief to the clawing need building inside of me.
Needy.
God, I’d never been so needy before.
I felt like the intensity of the sensations could make me cry if they didn’t get soothed, if they didn’t find release.
“Mine,” the man repeated as his lips broke from mine, leaving them swollen and overly sensitive as he headed toward my neck, his stubble scraping across my sensitive skin.
I was pretty okay with being his right then as his face dipped between my breasts, his tongue tracing a shape there as he lifted onto one arm so he could undo my buttons of my shirt, slowly exposing my chest and belly inch by inch.
His mouth followed the path his fingers cleared, his lips and tongue moving over my skin, down my belly, then back up and over, teasing over the edges where my breasts disappeared into my bra.
Then, his hand done with my buttons, it moved upward and yanked down one of my cups.
My nipple pebbled up at the brush of the cool air, making another of those growling noises escape the man on top of me before he was suddenly leaning down and sucking my nipple into his mouth.
My back arched up off the ground, pushing my breast against his sucking lips and stroking tongue as the need became a white-hot flame burning through my system.
His lips left me briefly, but only to go across my chest to continue the sweet torment.
My common sense never did return to me.
My hands grabbed the back of his head as he started to move downward again, his tongue tracing the waistband of my pants before he yanked against my hold and pushed back onto his heels.
His big hands moved out, grabbing one ankle so he could yank off one boot, then the other.
And what did I do?
I watched.
I watched this stranger in the woods who may or may not have been a, well, werewolf, strip me naked on the damn ground.
But the next thing I knew, his hands were grabbing the waistbands of my pants and panties, and dragging them down my legs.
He yanked up my legs once they were free, placing each of them on either of his shoulders, then leaning down and pressing a kiss to the inside of one of my ankles.
“Mine,” he repeated again, but this time it was less of a growl, and more like a solemn oath.