Werewolves of Ludlum

“What are you doing?”
Truro Simpson’s mouth slid off the man’s cock with a loud, wet pop. “If you have to ask then I’m not doing it right.” And to be honest Truro wasn’t sure she was. This was the first time she had ever taken a penis into her mouth. She was making it up as she went along. It wasn’t quite the lollipop experience she’d imagined but it wasn’t bad either. In fact it was quite exciting having a man’s attention focused solely on her.
His hand cupped her chin and lifted her head. “Oh you are—but why?” His eyes locked with hers.
Well, that’s not the answer I was expecting, though the subtle Irish lilt to his voice is so damn sexy. But then there was something about this tawny-haired man that had caught Truro’s attention the minute their eyes had connected at the local diner. She had felt compelled to look at him and when he had smiled at her, Truro had almost forgotten to breathe. She could say that was the reason she had accompanied him to the quiet motel on the edge of Ludlum. Or she could have said it was all to do with that New Age stuff about feeling an instant connection and that she was pulled toward someone without a chance to think. But, in reality, it was probably more that Truro was needy and just wanted to touch a man to get back some of the sensual power she was missing in her life. Maybe a feminist might have called that ridiculous but Truro didn’t care a great deal about what others thought about her. What she did care about and like was the sensual feel of a hard-bodied male under her fingertips. She’d missed that. Okay, so I’m basically alone and horny and I want to play with a man. What’s the harm in that?
“I want to see you lose control.” Truro liked the power of making a man come. Of course there was more to it than that but there was no way she was going to tell all her needy secrets to a stranger. The fact that he was unknown was perfect. Truro had something to prove and if she failed with him then it didn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.
“Why?”
What was this? Twenty questions? She had her mouth poised over his cock. A lot of men wouldn’t be thinking with their brain about now. “Because.” It was her standard noncommittal answer to everything. Luckily few people challenged her, so few delved deeper.
He pushed back on her shoulders. “Wait a second.”
“Are you serious?” Sudden feelings of inadequacy and the nasty words of her last lover flashed into her mind. Am I that unattractive? Is he repulsed? The pain Truro hid deep within started to leech into her veins making her doubt herself once more. What the hell am I doing? Like this guy would ever want me. Get up off your knees and get out. You’re a failure.
“This is a mutual thing, petal.’” His voice was as gentle as his hands resting on her shoulders.
Petal? Not in this lifetime.