A slow smile spreads across his face. “So sassy.”
“You like it.”
“I do.” He closes what little distance is between us and cups my breasts in his palms before running his thumbs over my nipples until they pebble. “I like everything about you, Caelan. Even the parts that drive me crazy.”
I fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he continues his exploration of my body, and my fingers tremble with a combination of need and nerves that has nothing to do with inexperience. This man is going to walk into enemy territory; he might not come back. The thought makes me desperate in ways I don’t fully understand. I’m suddenly so hungry to memorize every detail of him while I still have the chance.
His shirt falls open, and I push it off his shoulders before pressing my palms flat against his chest. The muscles beneath his skin twitch at my touch, and I trace the scars that map his history across his torso. The longest one runs from his shoulder to his ribs; Bastian gave him that when he was fifteen. Another curves around his hip and disappears beneath the waistband ofhis pants. I don’t know the story behind that one yet, but I want to learn.
I want to learn everything about him.
“You’re thinking too much,” Patrick observes as he backs me toward the bed.
“Sorry.” I sit down on the edge of the mattress and look up at him. “I can’t help it.”
“Then let me help you stop.”
He kneels in front of me and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear before he drags the fabric down my legs with agonizing slowness. I lift my hips to help him, and when I’m completely naked, he presses a kiss to the inside of my knee that makes me shiver.
“Lie back,” he commands.
I obey and settle against the pillows while he strips off the rest of his clothes. The sight of him naked makes my mouth water; he’s covered in muscles and radiates power, and his cock is already thick and straining toward his stomach. I reach for him, but he catches my wrist and places it back against the mattress.
“Not yet.” He crawls over me and pins both my wrists above my head with one hand. “Tonight, I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to make you feel so good you forget your own name.”
“Promises, promises.”
He silences me with a kiss that’s deep and thorough and consuming. I arch into him, desperate for more contact, but he keeps me pinned with his weight while he explores my mouth with his tongue. The position leaves me helpless and unable totouch or grab or guide, and the submissiveness of it somehow makes everything more intense.
When he finally releases my wrists, I keep them where he put them. Something about his dominance tonight calls to my wolf, makes me want to submit in ways I never have before. He rewards my obedience by running his lips down my throat before pausing to suck a mark into the sensitive skin below my ear.
“Mine,” he growls against my flesh.
“Yours,” I agree, and the word feels like a vow.
He continues his journey south, lavishing attention on my breasts until I’m squirming beneath him with whimpers falling from my lips. He takes his time with each one, sucking and licking and teasing until my nipples are aching peaks and I’m grinding against nothing, desperate for friction where I need it most. Every flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core, and I can feel myself getting wetter with each passing second.
“Patrick, please.”
“Please what?” He drags his tongue along the underside of my breast. “Tell me what you need.”
“Touch me. I need you to touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
I growl in frustration, and he laughs against my skin. The bastard is enjoying this, drawing out my desperation until I’m ready to beg. Two can play that game. I wrap my legs around his waist and roll my hips, grinding my wet center against his hard length.
The laugh dies in his throat, and a groan that vibrates through his whole body replaces it. “Fuck, Caelan.”
“That’s the idea.”
He retaliates by sliding down my body and nudging my thighs apart. I barely have time to register what he’s doing before he drags his tongue through my folds, and then I’m not thinking anything at all. He licks me with long, slow strokes that make my toes curl, and my back arch off the mattress, alternating between broad sweeps of his tongue and targeted flicks against my clit that have me seeing stars.
“Oh, God.” I grab fistfuls of the sheets as pleasure builds in my core. “Oh God, Patrick, that’s—”
He hums against me, and the vibration sends sparks shooting up my spine. I cry out and rock my hips, chasing more, and he gives it to me. He seals his lips around my clit and sucks while he slides two fingers inside me and curls them against that spot that makes my body shake.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans against my flesh. “I could eat this pussy for hours.”
