No—Ineededto.
He extended a hand, steady and sure, fingers spread in quiet invitation.
“May I?”
I slipped my hand into his. Heat flared instantly as his thumb began tracing slow, steady circles over my wrist.
“That’s very good, Flower. May I continue?”
My breath stuttered. A pulse of wicked anticipation coiled low in my belly.
Two taps against his wrist. Yes.
With a tug, he pulled me forward, his hands finding the small of my back with a confidence I wasn’t ready for. I gasped softly as he lifted me, guiding me into his lap—straddling him, breathless, as a hardness strained against his pants, rubbing against my sex.
“Ready, Flower?” he asked, his voice rough as his grip tightened around my waits and his other hand found the back of my neck. And then, his mouth—God, his mouth—pressed a whisper-soft kiss to the hollow of my throat, and I forgot how to breathe.
This was wrong. It was so, so wrong. But as his hands moved lower, cupping my ass as he pushed me against his hard cock, every single HR manual I had ever read went flying out the window.
Slowly, deliberately, I tap him twice.
“Good job, Flower,” he whispered against my neck, nipping at my skin. “Remember, if it is too much, we stop.”
At first it was subtle. The smell of rain with a hint of oak. But it only took a few breaths before it smelled as though I were in a forest. With each breath I took, my need for him deepened.
And I felt him. Everywhere.
A wetness formed between my legs as my pussy throbbed, an ache forming in my core. I began to move against him, unable to stop myself—my body searching,pleading, for friction.
His breath stuttered into a broken moan. His fangs peeked from behind parted lips, hunger written across his face.
His left hand slipped into my hair, pulling it back as the other slid under my skirt, his fingers finding the lining of my underwear.
When he made no effort to move further, a pang of disappointment ricocheted in my chest.
“I need to know that you still want this,” his words came out in a throaty growl, a reverence in his voice I never knew I needed. One that made me wonder just how good it would feel to be praised by him. To be forced to submit to him.
Fuck.
I need this.
I need him.
Now.
But all that escaped me was a soft, desperate whimper as his teeth grazed my throat. It was maddening.
His scent wrapped tighter around me, weaving itself through my every sense, every nerve ending.
His pheromones didn’t just intoxicate me.
Theypossessedme.
“Good girl, Flower, just like that, slow breaths,” he rasped, his claws pushing my underwear to the side, gripping my ass before moving to the innermost spot of my thigh, his knuckles rubbing against my core. “You are doing so well.”
The claws on his other hand scrapped against my scalp as he pulled my hair back, exposing my throat.
He marked me with his touch, with his kiss, a desperation in every scrape of his fangs against my skin.
