#NSFWednesday this week is The Wulver's Bond by Edwina Lindsey. This is such a fun excerpt, and once you've enjoyed it the book is available now.
From the blurb:
Arran is the Wulver, a reclusive wolfman who wants nothing more than to be left alone on his island to live in peace. That peace is shattered when he accidentally acquires ownership of Weed, a cursed young man who was previously trying to kill him. Arran is horrified when Weed's caustic personality excites his inner beast, challenging it with a furious attraction that he must fight to contain. But, as he begins to realise Weed's sharp personality hides a much softer truth, Arran’s heart starts to want the same thing as his inner wolf—even if it risks devastating Weed’s only chance at freedom.
Weed is a bratty fae creature trapped in servitude and human form against his will. When he becomes the property of the Wulver, he expects his new master to be just as cruel as his old one. But as Arran’s kind, patient nature shines through—even when Weed pushes his boundaries to breaking point—Weed must come to terms with the idea that he might finally be safe in the Wulver’s care.
Excerpt:
Outside the cave, Arran grappled with madness. He stamped back and forth over the same thin strip of dirt, itching with the need to burn off his frustration. He needed to run—to race wildly against the wind, dodging trees, leaping rocks, like a wild animal. He needed to dive into the river and quench his blazing arousal. His cock was engorged, heavy between his legs, still thumping to the smell and feel of Weed underneath him.
Why did the prickly little wretch excite his body so much?
Arran forced himself to stop, to breathe deeply of the cold evening air. He was beyond disgusted with himself. Some base, animal part of him had decided it liked the shape and scent of Weed, and he’d given into it like a weak-willed pervert.
How long had it taken him to abuse his position over Weed? Barely a month.
He should take Weed to visit the Walker witch as soon as possible.
Arran’s anguish subsided a little as the gravity of this thought sunk in. They would have to gather supplies. Weed would need to be better equipped for the journey. It would be months before Arran would see his home again.
His shoulders sagged. So much for peace.
As if summoned by the sentiment, Weed’s voice announced his appearance. ‘What’s happening, wolfie? Need a hand with anything?’
Arran held in a groan. Weed was still licentiously ruffled, smelling of cum and satisfaction and wearing the smuggest of grins. It took Arran an extra second to register what else Weed was wearing—which was practically nothing. He’d discarded all his clothes except for the velvet frock coat. He wore it open, with his hands on his hips, brazenly displaying his nimble body and his spent cock, which nevertheless twitched as Arran’s gaze flicked to it.
‘Seems you’ve got a condition of your own there, wolfie,’ Weed snickered, staring below Arran’s waistband.
Arran growled in response. Whether out of lust or warning, he wasn’t sure himself. ‘I am sorry,’ he managed to bite out, even though the beast in him definitely was not. ‘I should not have—’
‘Used my cock like a hand-driven hammer drill?’ Weed cackled, twirling on the spot. ‘Made me come like a squealing piglet in a wolf’s jaws?’
Arran’s fists clenched so tightly he felt his claws drawing blood. Fuck, why did Weed have to push so hard? If only he knew how close Arran was to snapping—to throwing him down and breeding him like the over-sexed bitch he smelled like.
‘It was… a… misjudgement,’ Arran rumbled, grating out the words between his fangs.
Weed skipped closer. ‘But you liked it.’
‘That’s beside the—What are you doing?’ Arran’s attention tore from Weed to a woody creeper of honeysuckle that was curling around his arm.
‘I thought I’d repay the favour,’ Weed replied innocently.
‘No,’ Arran snarled, though his cock, if possible, got harder. ‘Stop tha—’
‘Ah, ah!’ Weed wagged a finger under his nose. ‘You can’t make it an order if you want to preserve my free will!’
Arran’s eyes widened. Weed was, technically, correct.
Staring into Weed’s cunning green eyes, he suddenly realised he might be in a lot of trouble.
The Wulver's Bond is currently available as an e-book and paperback and can be read as part of your Kindle Unlimited Subscription
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