The Full Moon Breeding Club novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Sauna

In the lake sauna she pins his hands to the cedar bench and takes her first full night with a wolf.

The sauna was a log cabin at the end of a dock, and the heat hit me.

I had come to say a very short thing to Eero Saari, and I had said it in the doorway.

"Yes," I had said. "I want the second part."

Now the door was shut behind me and the little window was fogged.

He sat on the top bench in a towel, with his forearms on his knees and the sweat running down his chest.

In that light he was a mountain.

There was a scar across his left shoulder and another one down his ribs, both pale and old.

"You came," he said.

"I said I would think about it."

"It's been a day."

"I'm a fast thinker."

I dropped my coat on the floor and pulled my sweater over my head.

I was not a small woman.

I was five feet ten, soft in the belly and wide in the hips.

I had been told all my life to sit smaller.

His eyes went down me slowly and I watched what they did to his face.

He looked winded by the sight.

"Take the rest off," he said. His voice was rough. "Please."

"No."

His brows went up.

"I'll do it," I said. "You don't touch. Not until I say."

He did not smile.

He looked at me for a long moment, and then he laid his hands flat on the cedar bench on either side of him.

"Like this?"

"Like that."

I stripped slowly, bra, jeans, everything, and I did not hurry.

Heat prickled over my skin.

When I was bare I climbed the two steps to the top bench and stood over him.

He tipped his head back to look up at me.

The towel at his hips had a very obvious tent in it.

"I've never done this," he said.

"Had a woman?"

"Had a woman give the orders."

I took that in.

He was thirty-four years old, the size of a door, and I was the first.

"Then it's about time," I said.

I took the towel off him and dropped it.

He was already hard, thick and flushed and heavy against his own stomach.

I straddled his thighs and lowered myself slowly onto his lap, not letting him in, just letting him feel me.

I was wet, and I let him feel that too.

He made a sound.

"Hands stay on the bench," I said.

"They're on the bench."

"Good."

I took his face in both my hands and kissed him.

It was my first kiss with him, after the kitchen table, and it was touching a live wire.

His mouth was hot and he tasted of salt.

He kissed me back with a patience that made me crazy, slow and deep, his tongue sliding against mine, and his beard rasped my chin.

I ground down on him, rubbing my clit along the length of his cock, and he shuddered all the way up his spine.

"Anja."

"What?"

"I need to touch you."

"Where?"

"Everywhere." He bit it out. "Your hips. Your breasts. Anywhere."

I thought about it.

I let him sweat, in every sense, for several long, exquisite seconds.

"My breasts," I said. "With your mouth. Hands stay down."

He bent his head and took my nipple between his lips.

I cried out and my head fell back.

He sucked hard and then gently, his tongue circling, and he switched to the other breast without being told and did it again.

Every time I tried to take control back he made it harder to remember how.

His hands stayed on the cedar bench.

I could see the knuckles going white.

"Now," I said, breathless. "Now, Eero."

I reached down between us, wrapped my fingers around the thick hot length of him, and lined him up.

Then I sank down.

It was a stretch.

He was so big that I had to take him an inch at a time, rocking and breathing out.

Every inch filled me more, until I sat in his lap with him buried deep and my thighs shaking.

"Oh, fuck," I said.

"Yes."

"You're so big."

"You're so tight." He had his forehead pressed to my collarbone. "I can feel every part of you."

"Don't move."

"I'm not moving."

"Don't you dare move."

I rolled my hips once, slowly, and a groan tore out of him that rattled the glass.

I did it again.

I rode him like that, deep and slow, my arms around his neck and his hands still pinned to the bench.

The heat in the little room rose until our skin slid together.

I felt every stroke, the thick hard drag of him inside me.

The head of his cock hit something deep that turned my vision white at the edges.

"Tell me," I said. "Tell me how it feels."

"Like I've been looking for something my whole life," he said, "and it's you."

"That's not dirty."

"It's the truest thing I've got."

I leaned in and bit his lip, and he shook.

"Then give me the dirty one."

He swallowed.

"You feel like you were made to sit on me," he said, low. "Like I've been empty and you came and filled the place."

"Better."

"I want to put my hands on your hips and lift you and slam you down."

"Do it."

He didn't move.

"Say it," he said. "Please. I want to hear you tell me to."

I leaned back to look at him, and I understood.

He was waiting for the order.

He wanted to hear that I wanted it as badly as he did.

"Hands on my hips," I said. "Fuck me, Eero."

His hands left the bench like a released spring.

He gripped my hips, big palms spanning the sides of me, and lifted me up and brought me down hard.

I screamed.

He did it again, and again, driving up into me as I came down, and the slap of our skin rang off the cedar walls.

"Yes," I gasped. "Like that. Just like that."

"You're beautiful," he said into my neck. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He pulled me tight against his chest and turned us.

I landed on my back on the wide bench with my legs hooked around his waist.

He braced his hands beside my head and drove into me.

The wood was hot against my spine.

He fucked me like he'd been starving, deep and hard and steady, the whole bench shaking with it.

I clawed at his shoulders, slick with sweat, and every thrust lit me up from the inside.

"Touch yourself," he said. "Let me watch you."

I put my hand between my legs and rubbed my clit in tight circles while he watched, his eyes gold now, the brown almost gone.

I came with a shout that I think they heard in town.

My whole body clenched around him, and he groaned and went rigid.

"Anja," he said. "Anja, I can't."

"Don't hold it."

"I need you to say."

"Come in me," I said. "Please. I'm on the pill. Come in me."

He buried his face in my neck and came with a long raw shout.

His hips jerked, and he was hot and endless inside me, and I held him through every pulse of it.

We lay there for a long time.

The sauna ticked and cooled around us.

His weight on me was heavy and perfect, and his heart was slamming against my ribs.

"Is it always like that," I said finally.

"No." He lifted his head. "I wouldn't know. I've only ever done it alone."

"Since when?"

"Twenty-five."

"That's nine years."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"You could never hurt anyone."

"You don't know that."

He rolled off me and onto his side, and put one big hand on the bench between us, not touching.

I put mine over it.

It was the first time all night either of us had been gentle.

"Come to the lake," I said. "I want to wash this off you."

We went out into the cold, naked, and ran down the dock and jumped.

The water was so cold I screamed again.

He came up laughing, a deep helpless sound I had not heard from him before.

I laughed too, and we stood chest deep in Lake Superior holding on to each other.

It was late when we walked back up the dock.

My truck was where I had left it, on the gravel by the lodge.

Someone had tucked a cream-coloured envelope under the wiper.

I pulled it free and opened it under the porch light, with Eero dripping at my shoulder.

It was typed.

Registry notice, it said. Pair assignment for new member Aune, N.

Under that was a man's name, and a date, and the signature of Gunnar Torvik.

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