I lean back in my chair, knees wide, watching her with my wine glass resting on the wooden arm. “I’m at your command and at your service, Nephele. That’s the deal. I can’t promise I’ll always let you have the control I think you need. I’m a beast, and it just isn’t in my nature. But understand that when it comes to certain things, I’m always glad to give you what you want. All you need to do is ask.”
For long seconds, she sits so still, hand curled around the curved arms of her chair, like my words need time to sink in, or perhaps she’s deliberating something. Her chest rises and falls a little faster, and I can hear the gentle thudding of her heart, see her mind at work behind those piercing blue eyes. But it’s her scent, as usual, that gives her away.
“You need not suffer your desires alone, little bird. You can’t hide them from me. Let me ease them.”
More agonizing seconds pass. But then she pushes up from her chair and moves around the table toward me, holding my gaze as she comes to stand at my side. I set my wine glass on the windowsill.
“You’re sure you’re not hungry?” Her voice is shadowed with a sensuality I have not yet heard.
Intrepid as she is, she gathers the skirt of her dress in her hands, slowly inching it higher as her longing floods the room.
This heart of mine pounds like a war drum as I slip my hand along the soft skin of her thigh and look up to meet her gaze. “Suddenly, I’m quite starved.”
As my fangs extend, I ease Nephele in front of me and almost combust the moment she sits on the table without urging.
She slips off her shoes and rests her little feet on the wooden arms of my chair. “I want your mouth on my body, wolf.”
The boldness of those words, the need in them, sets my blood on fire.
Hands under her dress, I slide my forearms onto the table and grip her ample hips. Like the animal that I am, I drag my nose along her inner thigh, inching higher and higher and higher, until the full brunt of her aroma hits me in the face, making my mouth water.
She drops back on one elbow, her other hand threading into my hair to clasp the back of my head. I open my mouth wide and graze her pussy with a playful bite through the linen of her dress.
Even through the thin fabric, I sense her flesh. Disbelieving, I run my hands a little higher, only finding bare skin. She wore nothing beneath this gown today. Because she wanted this. Thought of this. Hoped for this.
That knowledge causes my wolf to hesitate, because for some reason, I feel a shift. Like she has just become the predator and I the prey.
But a shiver rocks through her, and a ragged moan escapes her throat, and her command rules me. “Again,” she says. “Harder.”
I give her what she asks for, rougher this time, raking my fangs over her, my hands tightening on her ass. That garners the sweetest, mangled whimper.
She shoves up from the table and tugs one side of her bodice down, revealing her breast, baring it for me. Her nipple is already so hard, a pretty, pale pink pearl begging for my tongue.
Eyes locked with hers, I drag the other side down too, exposing her fully.
I show my fangs as a reminder. “I have to be careful.”
Her eyes flare at the sight, and she swallows hard. “I told you. I’m not scared of you. I want your mouth on me. And don’t you dare be gentle about it.”
Aiming to please, I capture her nipple between my front teeth and bite down. A louder moan rips from her chest as she arches against me, gasping and clutching me close. I suck her deep into my mouth and palm her other breast, squeezing roughly.
As I feast on her, dragging my teeth and tongue across her tip, she covers my other hand with her own, helping me, pinching her nipple while I grip and knead her flesh. The sight of her touching herself is a heady thing, something I need more of.
Before I can ask for that particular delight, she clasps my face and drags me off her breast and into a bruising kiss.
When she breaks away, she whispers, “Is your cock hard for me, wolf?”
“Fuck yes,” I answer gruffly. “Painfully.”
She lowers her voice to a huskier tone. “Do you want it inside me?”
A growl of desire rumbles inside my chest, rattling me to my bones. But I try to think beyond her enticing words, because once more, I feel her impossible lure. She is a siren, and I cannot resist her song.
With every part of my being aching for her, I study her, searching for any falseness. All I see is her wanton expression, those long, blonde curls cascading around her shoulders, her bare breasts, still so tender and hard, framing the glowing remnant of my heart.
She is the absolute loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.
“You know I do,” I answer. “I want to burrow inside you and stay there for days. Come to my room with me.”
