Page 42 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“Oh, I’m on birth control,” I murmured. I knew humans also used condoms to avoid STIs, but that wasn’t something us shifters had to deal with.

Except for pubic lice. But I was not going to think about that. If there was one thing that could ruin the mood, it was that.

But Keith was still looking at me like he couldn’t believe or wasn’t sure he heard me right, so I continued.

“I’ve got a clean bill of health.” It was tempting to fib about having a clean test record, but as a wolf, I didn’t exactly go to human clinics. Maybe I would have had to as a kid if my pack didn’t have such a strong network, but we had a doctor in the family who would say we got all the shots and checkups to be a part of human society. He used what we paid him to treat various people in need. My family was more than happy to pay the rather paltry amounts for our own integration into the modern world and doubly happy that it went to people who needed it. Technically, it was insurance fraud, but who cared? As a shifter, that whole scheme seemed evil to me anyway.

Man, my post-orgasm brain went on some weird tangents.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since I was last tested,” Keith murmured, and holy shit, the way his scent spiked even higher was like a drug to my bloodstream.

“Do you…” I licked my lips, trying not to sound like I was putting pressure on him, but I hated the smell of condoms. It was downright nauseating, and nausea could go on the list of things not conducive for me getting climax number two, electric boogaloo. And if anyone could make me orgasm from penetration, I had no doubt it was the man above me whose face was still shiny from the first one he’d given me. “Wanna go without it?”

“We probably shouldn’t,” he murmured, and even though I could smell how much he wanted it, smell how much he wanted me, I wasn’t about to coerce him.

“Okay, that’s fi⁠—”

“Do you? Want to go without it, that is.”

Would telling the truth count as coercion? I didn’t think so, but it was difficult to think clearly when I was throbbing for him. My inner wolf was so close to the surface that I was surprised I wasn’t shifting and my teeth weren’t growing sharper.

I was going to go with the theme of the night, which was total honesty. Except for that whole being-a-wolf thing.

“Yeah, if you’re comfortable, I’d like to. But if you’re not, I’m okay using it.”

I felt bad for making the man think in his state, because I could practically see the veins along the side of his cock pulsing, and God, no one was ever going to be able to tell me shit about anything after seeing physical evidence of someone wanting me that intensely.

“I… I would like not to as well.”

“We’re on the same page then.”

Our voices were barely whispers, but we shared a look that wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was a gentle sort of… I didn’t even know what to call it. Acknowledgement? Trust?

Or maybe it was just that, in a moment that usually involved a lot of blind fumbling and panicked guessing, we were really seeing each other.

And it felt really good to be seen.

The moment lasted almost too long, the mood beginning to shift from erotic to something softer, subtler, but then he closed the drawer and centered himself over me again.

Somehow, he looked even bigger as he dragged his swollen head against my already soaking lips. If I weren’t a shifter, I knew I’d be swaying a little the next day, but that was okay. I was going to keep how sore he made me in my head to think about whenever I needed a boost. Or if my Hitachi died mid-session again and I had to do some acoustic fingering.

“Breathe for me,” he murmured before letting go of himself to grip my hand and move it to his chest. “Tap twice if you want me to pause but can’t say anything, okay?”

I nodded, and the lucidity I’d briefly held disappeared into the growing anticipation and desire flooding me. Some people would whine that such consideration was “unmanly,” but whatever. They could chew on a wet frisbee for all I cared, because I found it intensely sexy to be so cared for. So considered. It made me feel like I wasn’t the woman who had her birthday hijacked by two of her siblings, who was so chronically put last by everyone that my youngest brother knew he’d have to hide a Key lime pie so I could have my favorite dessert because no one thought to do that for me.

And goodness, that feeling was wonderful.

Would I be able to go back to what life was like before I knew what it was like to be treated this way?

I didn’t think so, but maybe that was a good thing. And then I stopped thinking at all, because Keith was pushing in.

Oh.

My.

God!

True to his word, he went slow. Achingly, agonizingly slow. I could feel every single centimeter he gained. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be careful or treat me with kid gloves, but I was too busy breathing through it to verbalize anything.