My nostrils flared at the scent of him, and half a second later his lips claimed mine. Holy mother of pearl. His lips were wide and soft, and though everything about him screamed he was a man in charge, his kisses were tender at first.
But the moment my hips writhed beneath his, aiming to line my center up with his hardness, his kisses became insistent. My lips parted for him as he parted my legs, and I didn’t resist.
I wrapped my legs, boots and all, around his waist.
A moan escaped him as our tongues entwined, and holy hell this was just what I needed. Only a drunk Evie would let her guard down enough to get properly laid. My eyes fell closed for a beat, lost to the overpowering sensation of his warm, slick tongue against mine, but I immediately missed the amber burn of his stare, so I opened them again. I didn’t want to miss a second of this. Even though we were piss-ass drunk, I hoped I’d remember every glorious moment.
My palms dragged across his strong back, stroking it and running over lines of hard muscle, feeling a few scars there through his shirt. His kisses became more insistent; I tasted the beast inside him. When he groaned, I ran my hands through the lengths of his dark hair, and he snapped his head back. Instantly, I missed him, and pulled at him to come closer to my face.
He stared at me, unflinching for several beats, until I stopped moving. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes blazed like they’d burst into flame.
“After this, I won’t be able to stop myself.” His voice was gruff, and I understood all he hadn’t said.
Werewolves were half beast, half man.
I’d tangled with enough of them to know that once the wild side of them was engaged, they’d struggle to return to the man. Someone as strong as this guy would struggle less than weaker ones, but he’d still have to fight the beast part of him to regain control.
I breathed in deeply and a shiver ran through my body, pulsing at my slick core. “Trust me, I don’t want you to stop.” All I was afraid of was that I might never want him to stop; I didn’t do the whole “boyfriend” thing. My life was fucked up enough as it was, without complicating it further.
“You’re drunk,” he stated, breathing in raggedly, trying to control himself.
“So are you,” I shot back at him.
“I’m drunk on you.”
Oh. My. Fucking. Stars. I stared him straight in the eyes, enunciating every damn word. “I. Want. To. Have. Sex.” I smiled like a choir girl. “Now,please.” I batted my eyelashes for good measure. What universe was I living in that I had to beg this guy to have sex with me?
His eyes flared like molten stars, and with one hand he yanked off his t-shirt.
Oh yes, come to mama.
My mouth dropped open and I didn’t give a damn that I might be drooling. Hungrily, my gaze ran down his chiseled chest and tight abs. My attention caught on the sprinkling of dark hair that trailed down his stomach to the gold mine.
He smirked when he caught me staring. Cocky bastard. But I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. I was looking for a good time, one that’d make me forget everything I wanted, and right now, that was a whole hell of a lot. He was going to be my savior, even if only for one night.
Where his movements had been frenzied just moments before, they suddenly became measured and indulging. He unsnapped his jeans in slow motion, watching for my reaction, and grinned. “Like what you see?”
He knew I did, the bastard. I shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve seen better.”
His smirk fell, but only by a fraction. “Like hell you have.”
Oh, he was definitely a dominant wolf.
I scooted up the bed a bit, feeling more drunk on him, than the alcohol. “So, are you gonna talk all night, or are we going to get down to business?”
“I plan to take my time with you,” he spoke in husky, seductive tones that would probably turn a harem of girls into mush. But I wasn’t just any girl, not even when I was half out of my mind.
“Like hell you will,” I replied, repeating his jab.
“Oh?” He arched a dark eyebrow, and dammit if it didn’t make him look even hotter. “You think you can force my hand?”
“I know I can.” Two could play his game, and I’d bet I could do it better.
I was better than most at everything I did, no matter what my family thought—well, all except Gran.
Kicking my boots off, one by one, I allowed them to fall to the floor of the crappy room with a plunk. Next, I unbuttoned my jeans with a pop, and his hand went to his zipper. I slid my own zipper down, all the while holding his gaze, and he yanked his down as well.
