According to Smithtown lore, Bobby Ray Smith was one of those men.

She didn’t even try to keep up the fight anymore. Not once his tongue speared between her lips, stroking against all that wetness he’d already created. He licked, he sucked, he nibbled. He drove her insane.

So lost, Jess could do nothing but ride his mouth while her hand reached out to grip the legs of the bed and the bedside table. The only way to hold her steady as the man took her right to the edge... right... there.

“So you’ll stay?”

Jess’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Stay?” he asked, apparently in no rush to get back to what he’d been doing. “Tonight? All night?”

She shouldn’t. Really. So much to do, so much riding on her shoulders. But one look into those eyes and she was lost. In what universe did she actually think she could handle Smitty when it came to sex? Delusional. She’d become delusional.

Unfortunately, though, it was too late now. Too late for anything.

“Yes,” she groaned out, her hand releasing the table and reaching down to grip his head, pushing him back to the job he was doing so very well. “Yes, I’ll stay. Oh God! Yes!”

It was after midnight when Jess slipped out of bed, grabbed her phone, and stumbled to the bathroom. Stumbled because a body couldn’t really be expected to walk after all that. Man oh man. Egotistical he might be but apparently with reason.

After a quick use of the facilities, Jess stood at the counter and sent a text message to May letting her know she’d be home in the morning. The last thing she needed was for her Pack to show up at Smitty’s door, demanding to know if she was okay.

May wrote back immediately—which let Jess know she’d been waiting up for her—

RIDE HIM, GIRL!

Stretching like any good canine loved to do, she reveled in how relaxed she felt. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in ages. She forgot how much she enjoyed it.

Jess grinned and pulled open the bathroom door. Smitty stood on the other side.

They stared at each other until Jess asked, “Can I help you?”

“I’m hungry.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

She would say he frowned, but he’d actually already been frowning when she opened the door.

“Feed me.”

Did he expect her to cook for him? A few hours of fucking and suddenly she was responsible for managing his hunger?

She wiggled past him since he was blocking the entire doorway with that big wolf body of his. “I’m not cooking, Smith. If you’re hungry, cook your own damn meal.”

Jess tried to crawl back into bed, but Smitty swept her up in his arms.

“Put me down, you cretin!”

Smitty carried her into the kitchen with her flailing all the way until he sat down in a chair atthe kitchen table and fixed Jess onto his lap facing him. That’s when she realized he already had a big plate of leftover cold fried chicken, a pitcher of iced tea, a big bowl of barbeque potato chips, and a cherry cobbler laid out on the table.

Jess stared at the mini-feast in confusion until she felt Smitty push his way inside her. She gasped in surprise, looking away from the food and at Smitty. Whether he’d been wearing the condom already when he walked her over here or had one sitting at the table, she didn’t know. All she did know was he took his time burrowing his way inside her pussy, his eyes focused on where they were joined. Once he’d seated himself completely inside her, he looked up and repeated, “Feed me.”

“Now?”

His hands, tightly gripping her hips, raised her up and quickly slammed her back down. Her toes curled at the feel of him inside her, her breath coming out in hard little pants.

“Feed. Me.”

“Okay, okay,” she said between breaths.

Jess reached over to the plate of fried chicken and grabbed a drumstick. She held it in front of Smitty’s mouth and, his eyes never leaving her face, he took a bite. He chewed and motioned to her with a slow lift of his chin. It wasn’t until she ate that first bite of chicken that she realized exactly how hungry she was. Starving actually, since she’d barely touched breakfast and had missed lunch altogether.

She fed him chicken while he slipped her chips. They both drank their own tea. And the entire time he stayed inside her. Sometimes he’d use hands messy with chip grease to rock her on top of his cock. Other than that he didn’t say a word. She found that strangely erotic. Maybe because most of those around her, including herself, never really shut up. Smitty didn’t talk while he ate, though. He barely spoke while he fucked. The combination of the two practically made him a mute.

Yet, she had to admit to herself that never before in her entire thirty-two years had she ever been this turned on.

Sure, Smitty could have just fed her and taken her back to bed to fuck once they were done. That’s what most people did. But waking up and finding her gone had annoyed him more than he’d admit. Then immediately feeling relief when he realized she’d only gone to the bathroom did nothing but piss him off. There were few wolves who didn’t wake up to find the She-wolves they’d bedded long gone. Most females didn’t stick around unless physically tied to the bed, which often led to all sorts of enjoyments and trouble. Smitty, however, never bothered with that because he never really cared much if they were still there when he woke up.

To be honest, he avoided most full-human females because he usually woke up with them hanging on to him like a capsized boat after the Titanic went down. He’d wake up feeling smothered and annoyed.