**Eighteen : Wake Up Call
The first thing that I note when I finally regain consciousness is that there is something tickling me.
My legs feel slightly chilly like I have kicked the sheets off in my sleep and my mind is a complete foggy mess that is still trying to straighten itself out.
I chose to ignore it since my eye lids were heavier than lead at the moment in hopes of catching some more rest before having to awaken.
Not even three more minutes later and I could not stand it any further. This itchy, almost wet feeling seemed to travel from my inner thigh onto the side of my right hip.
I shrug my shoulders and lazily attempt to swat and scratch the itchy tickling feeling coming from my hip when my hands touched something silky and soft, strands of it falling through my fingers.
Oh my God!
There better not be a freakishly giant spider in my bed!
My eyes jerked open, heart pounding almost one hundred miles a minute.
I was starting to freak out.
I open my mouth in a silent scream of some sorts and quickly glanced down to find a pair of electric blue eyes staring right back into my own.
Eros? Alpha Eros?
What was he doing in my bed?
My brain seemed to have suddenly shut down as I watched his sexy mouth part and a pink tongue peak out to slowly lap against the long open cut on the side of my hip, leaving a trail of electric sparks in his wake.
The area slightly hurt when his tongue roughly dragged across, yet a slightly pleasurable tingle caused my lower stomach curl in a strange way.
This strange feeling made me want to squeeze my legs together for some weird reason. Even my toes curled into the sheets, a shiver wracked my frame as if I was cold and goosebumps freckled my flesh. I quickly draw my gaze away from his captivating actions.
“You’re bleeding,” he states as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to wake up to him licking the side of my hip.
“I know,” I reply with a hint of anger, more like embarrassment at my bodies strange reaction to his touch.
I could hear my blood rushing in my head, my breath coming out in soft embarrassing pants, chest heaving at the rush of sensation he was causing to arise. Rapidly swallowing, I try to stop the urge to whine in the back of my throat or even moan wantonly.
“I can smell your arousal, mate,” he mutters rather heatedly against my hyper sensitive skin, lips brushing ever so lightly against me at every word like he was intentionally doing it.
I unconsciously close my legs tightly together, cheeks burning hotly like a wild fire in embarrassment.
My poor heart really can’t take this anymore.
I am tempted to push him away but I couldn’t get my arms to move since I feel like a pile of mush instead of an actual human being.
I glance down at him from the corner of my eye.
His blue eyes seemed a shade darker than normal, the pupils completely dilated as he watches me like a predator watching its meal.
I vaguely remember from somewhere that werewolves, like most predators, crave the sight and taste of blood. They easily entered blood lust and when mating, many couples tended to hurt each other and use their blood to reach a new orgasmic high.
“I think my wound is okay now,” I hurriedly say as soon as the idea hits me.
Eros’ tongue doesn’t seem to be leaving my flesh any time soon. He lazily licks the area, causing more goosebumps to freckle my flesh, sharp canines slightly grazing my wound as my limbs jerk at the foreign yet stimulating painful/pleasurable sensation.
“My saliva can heal wounds faster,” he explains, stopping his pleasurable ministrations in between words before continuing with un-contained enthusiasm.
His words are completely true. The substance in werewolf saliva can help wounds stop bleeding, coagulate faster in order to aid in recovery, and remove infectious bacteria in between.
Most animals always tended to lick their wounds for this reason.
Eros seems to be enjoying my blood like some sort of fine delicacy and I’m afraid that I can’t get him to stop. Hopefully, he doesn’t end up eating me in the process.
Werewolves don’t eat their ‘soul mates’, right?
Unless I’m not really his ‘soul mate’ and this is just all a lie than I think I should be safe.
I swallow the lump in my throat and contemplate what to do.
Other than his mouth attached to the side of my right hip, his large and warm right hand was currently drawing different patterns against the skin of my left side.
Something else entirely catches my attention when I realize that from his angle he could definitely see my...my other womanly parts that he shouldn’t be seeing!
Oh my God!
The t-shirt had risen to the point that even I was able to see a hint of my...my thing!
Oh my God! Oh my God!
I was starting to panic and hyperventilate in complete embarrassment.
My hands moved faster than my brain could comprehend.
I clench the white fabric of the t-shirt and tried to cover the area between my legs but this seemed to be impossible with his head in the way.
That didn’t sound right. Let me re-phrase that.
What I mean is that his head at the side of my hip was obstructing me, along with his arm on my side.
I have never been this embarrassed in my life!
His long fingers danced across my belly button and upwards towards the skin underneath my left breast making me choke back a surprised gasp. The area where my ribs are, happen to be extremely sensitive to the touch.
There is a teasing, knowing smile on his lips when he pressed a warm wet kiss against the top of my thigh and pulled back.
Strong arms bracing against both of my sides when I finally managed to hide my private parts from view.
My cheeks still burned like a thousand suns.
His dark blue eyes stared down at me, un-moving as if to inspect every single expression on my blushing face. I swallow painfully and completely turned my head to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze.
Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. The hard place happens to be a certain body part on him that happens to be poking my thigh like a steel rod. From the corner of my eye, I could see the tent in his pants before completely removing my gaze again.
“You can go and wash up first mate, I will bring breakfast in the mean time,” he says with a rather silky and husky voice that makes goosebumps form on my arms and legs.
I could feel his extremely warm body remove itself from mine, almost yearning and slow.
I didn’t even glance towards him and instead laid in place until I heard the door click close.
My whole body deflated like a balloon while I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart.
Did he just walk out of the room with a erec---with his pants tented like that?!? What if someone sees him? I already feel kind of embarrassed for him!
Is there no such thing as embarrassment for werewolves?