“You feel what you do to me? How desperate I am for you? Every day of my fucking life—Gods, why do you feel sogood?”
His hips slam into mine. I bend forward, gripping the edge of the dresser for leverage as I press back against his lap. He lets out a guttural sound as his fist tightens in my hair, and he starts to grind on me, working me faster and deeper with his fingers until my mind starts to fracture. I close my eyes as all the feeling in my body begins to gather in my center, pooling there like it’s the only part of me that exists.
Just as I’m about to shatter, he wrenches me upright by my hair.
“Eyes open,” he commands, his breaths growing more shallow. “Right here. I want you to see how fucking beautiful you are when you’re coming apart for me.”
His words send another shot of fire straight to my core. So I watch as he gets me there, watch his wolfish eyes watching me in the mirror, my back arching, my mouth open, my head tipped back, my hand clasping the back of his neck. And at the very peak of that mountain, the blacks of my eyes sharpen into slits.
Holy. Shit.
My legs are shaking as I crane my neck to kiss him. Then we’re migrating toward the bed, falling, wrapped around each other. I run my hands down the smooth plane of his chest and abs, smiling at the breathless noise that leaves him. I climb over him, marveling at how gorgeous he is—hair mussed and mouth swollen from my kisses.
He looks fucking edible.
I bend to sweep my tongue up the column of his neck, over his Adam’s apple. His scent, stronger here than anywhere else on hisbody, hits me hard as his blood pools beneath the surface. The fangs in my mouth make themselves more pronounced, suddenly aching to sink into that perfect skin of his.
Are they getting longer?
“I want to taste you,” I breathe, surprised at the sudden urge. His brown eyes light up. He sits up, cupping my head, and guides me toward him.
“I don’t know how?—”
“Just do what feels good,” he encourages, running his thumb over my lips.
“What if I hurt you?”
“Hurt me?” He chuckles, dragging me further up his lap so that I’m positioned directly over the generous bulge in his pants.
Dear lord.
“Serena, if you stabbed me right now, I’d probably come.”
“Not funny.”
He answers by lifting his hips and driving into me through our clothes, which shuts me uprealfast.
Instinct takes over as I suck his neck into my mouth, marking the spot with a kiss before sinking my fangs in two inches below his ear.
“Oh, fuck.Serena,” he cries, his whole body jerking in response. Pride spikes through me, feeling the shiver run down his immaculate body.
Hah. Thanks for the tip, Ceec.
His hands travel up my back with delicious, urgent need. He tastes as good as he smells, somehow sweeter than I expected, mixed with something elemental—like a cool breeze. I can feel his magic opening up to me, tangling with mine. Soon he is shooting through my veins, and I’m soaring. It’s not only his magic—it’s his innermost thoughts, his sight. I can see myself through his eyes, feel the way he feels about me, the myriad of beautiful emotions he’s experiencing right now. I feel love, and I feel loved. It’s bursting through me, starting up another tidal wave that I can’t fight.
Yes. Fucking yes.
Now I get it. The reason my gums ached in response to Zadyn’s bite. It’s an intrinsic need to mark. To claim. To consume.
I rip my teeth free, high on the earthy taste of him, and attack his mouth, tackling him back onto the bed. He answers with equal fervor—growling into my mouth, his heart thudding beneath my palms.
I need him—skin to skin—all of him. But when I reach for his pants, he pulls back—one hand smoothing my cheek and the other stilling my wrist.
“Why are you stopping?” I pant. How dare he.
“If I don’t stop now, I’m not going to be able to.”
My gaze shifts back and forth. “Not seeing the issue there.”
