**Eighteen : Wake Up Call
There is something tickling me.
That was the first thing I noted when I finally regain consciousness.
I chose to ignore it since my eyelids felt like they were heavier than lead at the moment.
My legs feel a little chilly like I kicked the sheets off in my sleep and my mind is a complete foggy mess that is still trying to straighten itself out.
This itchy and wet feeling traveled from my inner thigh onto the side of my right hip. I shrug my shoulders and lazily scratched the itching area when my hands touched something silky and soft, strands of it falling through my fingers.
What in the world?
My eyes jerked open, heart pounding almost a hundred miles a minute, but my brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.
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.
What was he doing in my bed?
My brain seemed to have suddenly shut down. I watch as his mouth parts and a pink tongue peaks out to slowly lap against the long open cut on the side of my hip.
The trail of electric sparks left in his wake made my toes curl into the sheets on its own accord.
Although the area slightly hurt when his tongue roughly dragged across, a slightly pleasurable tingle caused my lower stomach to clench in a strange way.
This feeling made me want to squeeze my legs together for some weird reason.
A shiver wracked my frame as if I was cold and goosebumps freckled my flesh in response.
I quickly draw my gaze away from his captivating actions.
“You’re bleeding,” he states, acting as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to wake up to him licking the side of my hip.
How is he feigning innocent while still licking me?
“I know,” I reply with a hint of embarrassment that border lined anger because of my bodies strange reaction to his touch.
I could hear my blood rushing in my head. My breath came 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, Emira,” 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 like a wildfire in the forest.
My poor heart really can’t take 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.
Timidly, I glance down at him.
Eros blue eyes looked a shade darker than normal.
The pupils were completely dilated as he watches me like a predator watching its next meal.
I vaguely remember from somewhere that werewolves, like most predators, crave the sight and taste of blood.
Even when mating, many couples tend to hurt each other and use each other’s blood to reach a new orgasmic high.
“I think my wound is okay now,” I hurriedly stated as soon as the thought hits me.
Eros lazily licks the area, sharp canines slightly grazing my wound as my limbs jerk at the foreign yet stimulating painful/pleasurable sensation.
More goosebumps freckled my flesh.
“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.
Most animals tend to lick their wounds for this reason.
But Eros seems to be enjoying my blood too much for my taste. It’s like some sort of fine delicacy to him.
I’m afraid that I can’t get him to stop and he might end up sucking me dry.
I quickly swallow the lump in my throat and tried not to panic or hyperventilate in complete embarrassment.
Suddenly, I realized that, from his angle, he could definitely see my private parts.
Oh my gosh.
The t-shirt had risen to the point that even I was able to see the area between my legs.
My hands moved faster than my brain could comprehend.
I clench the white fabric of the t-shirt and tried to cover the area, but this seemed to be impossible with his head in the way.
That didn’t sound right.
Let me rephrase that.
What I mean to say is that his head and arm was obstructing me.
“Eros,” I said as his long fingers danced across my belly button and upwards towards the skin underneath my left breast.
The area, where my ribs are, happen to be extremely sensitive to the touch.
When his fingers tickled across, my entire body jerked upwards and trembled the longer he circled the flesh with his fingers.
A teasing, knowing smile blossomed on his lips.
Eros pressed a warm wet kiss against the top of my thigh and pulled back.
His strong arms braced against the bed when I finally managed to hide my private parts from view.
His dark blue eyes stared down at me, un-moving as if to inspect every single expression on my blushing face.
I swallowed painfully and completely turned my head to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze, cheeks burning like a thousand suns.
Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.
The hard place happens to be a certain body part on him that is poking my thigh like a steel rod.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the tent in his pants before completely removing my gaze again.
My entire face and neck felt like it was going to melt from my embarrassment.
“You can go and wash up first. I will bring breakfast in the meantime,” he says with a rather silky and husky tone of voice. I couldn’t contain the sudden shivers that wracked my form.
After his words, his extremely warm body removed itself from mine.
I didn’t even glance towards him and instead laid in place like a cadaver until the door closed.
At his departure, my whole body deflated like a balloon, yet my heart was still pounding rapidly in my chest.
Did he just walk out of the room with an erec—with his pants tented like that?
What if someone sees him?