“You need your mate,” he whispered. “You need my touch. You need me to pet you and stroke you and soothe the ache between your soft thighs.”
Oh.That need. Of course he could smell that with his shifter nose. Josephine felt as though the raw desire tofeelhim oozed from every pore. It blocked everything else — his insistence that she bore some spark of magic, that she bite him, that they must escape. It was all-consuming.
A single word escaped her on the heels of a whimper:“Yes.”
“Ask me for my name.” His voice was a serrated edge of pure desire. “Ask me,kone,and I’ll kiss you the way you need.”
Josephine had wanted many things in her life. She’dneverwanted something as fiercely as she wanted the shifter’s kiss.
“Tell me your name,” she begged, heedless of the consequences. Josephine desperately rubbed her lips against his, as if to encourage him to take from her, to teach her. “I want to— I need to know your name. Please.”
She felt his chest swell with a deep breath. There was nothing but satisfaction in his voice when he said, “My name is Otto Beornson, and I am yours until Grim takes me.”
“Otto.” The name left her on a dreamy sigh.Simple and charming. A perfect fit.
A great tearing sound erupted from his chest. Josephine barely had a moment to realize it was a savage animal growl, too loud for even his great body, before a hot mouth descended on her own.
She’d seen kisses before. Her parents occasionally exchanged a peck or two, and when they lived in cities, she’d seen a great many depraved acts in the alleyways below her windows.
Even so, she was entirely unprepared for the shock ofbeingkissed.
Otto held her head between his hands and pressed his lips against hers again and again, as if he couldn’t get enough, and then began to fixate on one lip at a time — sucking it into the hot well of his mouth, nibbling on it, pressing his teeth down until she gasped.
It was an unrelenting tide of sensation and warmth. Her stiffness melted away the longer he lavished her with attention. When at last she parted her lips for him, desperate for more of his taste, he made a sound of approval in the back of his throat and slowly dipped his tongue inside.
Josephine jolted, shocked by the intimacy of the act, the liquid glide of his tongue against hers, the taste of him, and the way it all made her sex throb with a terrible, distracting ache.
Instinct took over. The beast rose up in her mind. For once she didn’t fight it. They were in perfect accord as they fought to get closer, to take more from him.
Josephine pressed her body against his until there was no space between them. Her fingertips curled into the flesh of his back. She met the stroke of his tongue with her own, clumsy and hesitant at first, then bolder, with a hunger that matched his.
There was the clink of chains before she was whirled around and pressed against the wall. Only yesterday, the thought of being pinned by his great bulk to the stone would have sent her into a fit of terror, but there was not even a whisper of fear in her now. It could not survive the heat of the desire that scorched a path through her.
Dropping his hands between them, Otto hiked up her skirt and chemise with frenzied movements. “Spread your legs for me,” he commanded.
She didn’t think. It was easy to follow instinct, and it only wished to please him.
Josephine spread her legs.
She wasn’t entirely certain how it happened, but a moment later he had one of her thighs slung over a thick forearm, forcing her onto her tiptoes, as his right hand arrowed through the slit in her undergarments.
The roof of her mouth pounded with a terrible, urgent pain when the rough pads of his fingers slid through dark curls to find her sex.
Josephine bit back a shout when a bolt of pleasure accompanied a slow, proprietary touch of her slick flesh. The roots of her fangs burned as they extended with a dullsnick.
“What I wouldn’t give to have you in a den now,” Otto grated. “The urge to fuck you and mark you is like fire in me,kone.”
Would he do that here? Now? Josephine’s mind was so hazy, so clouded with need, she couldn’t summon any objections.
Josephine wanted to feel his touch on every inch of her skin. She wanted his taste to linger on her tongue. She wanted to know what it was like to feel his cock inside her hungry body.
She wanted to feel the ecstasy of his bite — deeper this time, hard enough to tear her flesh, marking her for all the world to see.
She didn’t realize she was speaking until Otto cut her off with a desperate kiss. Speaking against her mouth, he panted, “Shh, shh. I have you. I will. I promise I will.” His fingers moved restlessly, swirling and then dipping inside her, making her gasp at the strangeness, the sharp bite of untrained muscles stretching around a thick finger.
“Soon,” he promised, pumping slowly in and out of her. Josephine clawed at his chest, his neck, his wavy blond hair. Every stroke of his finger felt foreign and delicious. It both soothed the ache and made it that much worse. She felt a pressure, as if he was pushing her closer to some unseen cliff.Closer, closer, clos—
The addition of another finger made her tense. The stretch was no longer quite so pleasurable. A whine built in the back of her throat as the pressure gave way to sharp discomfort.
