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tongue worked slowly, traveling up and down my clit as if he were trying to memorize every fold of me. His tongue and breath were sweltering against my sex, sending shivers through my body as he licked me from the bottom of my clit to the top.
    I moaned, filling up the gallery with my cries of ecstasy in octaves I didn’t even know were possible. Mo held my legs and pulled me closer to the edge of the table so my lips were directly in front of his face. He smiled at me, enjoying the rapture written across my face.
    “There you go. Let me hear you scream.” The intensity of his ministrations increased, his tongue lapping at a frantic pace.
    I wanted him inside me. At that moment, I didn’t care that he was a werewolf, or even that I didn’t really know him. Right then, I wanted him thrusting between my walls more than I wanted anything in the world.
    But this was his show; he was in control, and all I could do was submit to his desires.
    Mo went from licking to sucking me. The slurping of his lips against my wet pussy were nearly loud enough to compete with my moans. I gripped the sides of the table as my legs shook and wrapped around his neck.
    A moment later, symphony of desperate cries echoed off the walls of the art studio. Opening my eyes, I looked around at the dozens of paintings. All of them seemed to be staring down at me.
    Mo reached up my shirt, searching for my breasts and fondling them when his fingers found hidden treasure.
    As he teased my nipples, I finally lost control. With the eyes of the paintings watching me, I came, covering his face in my sweet, sticky juices. I’d never seen anything sexier than looking down at Mo’s glowing eyes, but his teeth worried me. They were long and sharp now.
    I was both scared and turned on by him. I wanted to speak, tell him that his attention felt so good and I wanted to take it further, but then a bell rang in the distance. I heard footsteps, and then a voice calling for Mo; a woman’s voice.
    Mo stopped, his head rising from between my legs. He sniffed the air.
    “It’s my wife,” he muttered. “Stay here.”
    His voice quivered as he leapt to his feet while wiping his face and walked out of the room, leaving me half naked on the table in his art studio.
    “Honey, what are you doing here?” I heard him say.
    I closed my eyes. He has a wife... dammit, Jaime.
    I listened as I grabbed my shorts from the floor. They were talking about food or something, but my head was buzzing with the thought of him being married.
    “Is someone here?” I heard her ask, her voice loud and clear as if to warn me.
    That was it. I opened the red door from whence I came and slowly let it close behind me.
    Once I was back outside, I grabbed my push cart and walked as fast as I could towards the street. I didn’t look back, not even once. My only concern was getting the hell out of there. My straw hat had come off, and I left my mangled panties behind in Mo’s studio, but at that moment, I just didn’t care.
    I saw Becky as soon as I reached the street. I wished she had magic and could start up and come to me instead of having to walk all that way.
    I ran to her, throwing my shopping bags and cart in the backseat. Whatever the speed limit was, I certainly exceeded it when I burned rubber out of town.
    I was always getting myself into trouble like this. Even in Hillston I couldn’t stay away from the wrong men.

*****
    I took my second shower of the day. This time, I preferred it hot.
    I wanted to get every trace of Mo off my skin. I could still feel his tongue swirling around my sensitive rosebud and his hands all over my body; the scorching heat of his kisses on my neck and his lips on mine. I promised myself that it was our first and last time together. I wasn’t the type to date married men.
    The word married bounced around my head a dozen times as I scrubbed my hair. I remembered his grabbing at my hair as he pulled me close. Dammit, even werewolves couldn’t stay