Hopefully it didn’t raze the town to the ground first.
Redd bent and hooked his hands under my arms, hoisting me from the ground and onto my feet. “Let’s go tell the others—they’ll be happy to hear that the beast is okay. And then let’s get home,” he murmured. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We’ll need to come up with a new plan.”
I slipped my fingers between his, letting him fill the spaces in my palm. “Let’s.”
Redd’s breath ghosted over the back of my neck as we entered our cottage, sending a shiver down my spine. I barely noticed as the door shut behind us. He reached around to unclasp my cloak and trail his fingers softly over my throat, cold from the frigid outside air.
With a sigh, I tilted my head to give him more access.
He chuckled, his fingers leaving my skin to pull off my cloak, and then his. He tossed them aside, where they landed with a soft thud on the floor.
I turned to face him.
He was so unfairly gorgeous, my mate. His dark hair was mussed from the wind, and his brown eyes gleamed with mischief. He bit his lip, fangs poking into the flesh.
I wished those fangs were poking intomeinstead.
He grinned, as though he could sense what I was thinking.
Just when I was about to step forward and wrap my arms around him, he crouched to the floor, his hands reaching for my feet.
Fingers strong and sure, he unlaced my right boot, and then my left. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. I didn’t care where they landed.
Redd settled his hands on my calves, stroking the muscle through the fabric of my trousers. His fingers dug in for a moment.
Slowly, his hands rose, over the backs of my knees, my thighs, and then over my ass. Exploring. Kneading.
Quickly, before I could even tell what was happening, he stood and grabbed me by the waist, lifting me and whirling into the kitchen, where he settled me onto the edge of the table.
Reflexively, I wrapped my legs around his waist.
I was out of patience—I needed to kiss him. With a groan, I threaded my fingers into Redd’s windblown hair, yanking his face to mine.
He kissed me like a man starved.
He tasted like ice and something primal, something that heated my veins and tightened my stomach.
His lips stroked along mine, desperate, hurried, hungry. When I parted my mouth to deepen the kiss, desperate for more, he retreated, his mouth dropping to my chin, my throat. I whined.
I couldn’t decide what I wanted more—for him to kiss me or bite me.
“Redd,” I pleaded.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured against the tender skin of my throat. He lingered for a moment, scraping his fangs against my jugular in a tease that made me writhe with need.
My hips churned, desperate for contact. “Please.”
“Patient, Fiella. You know I’ll always take care of you.”
“Just bite me. One little bite,” I begged. My fangs ached at the thought of the euphoria that accompanied the bite. He would drink from me, and then it would be my turn. It would be utter bliss. I salivated.
“Not yet,” he said softly. He unbuttoned my blouse, slowly, letting it drop to the table behind me.
My breasts were free beneath—I didn’t bother strapping them down when I was wearing thick clothing and cloaks anyway.
He dragged his mouth from my throat, over my sternum. His hands settled onto my ribs.
Redd’s callused thumbs stroked the undersides of my breasts until I was squirming. Panting. When I was prepared to beg once again, he turned his face, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth.
