A heated shiver travels through me, awakening nerves everywhere. This isn’t the place for more, not with two other women sleeping in the cabin. And yet, for once, I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, sees, or hears.
The way he looks at me…
The cabin fades away.
It’s just us now.
Softly, I kiss him on the lips. He responds, a bit hesitant, as if he’s letting me lead. Maybe he’s afraid I don’t truly want him.
My hand cups his cheek and I deepen the kiss. My fingers move on their own, memorizing him—his warmth, his strength… his heart. They slide down the thick cords of his neck, over hard pecs, circling a tightened nipple before dipping lower. I’ve never had the opportunity to explore him like this, trace every plane and valley, admire him without worrying about the consequences.
He doesn’t touch me, but he’s not stopping me either, as if he’s letting me take charge. Deciding not only my course, but his as well. That’s not what I want, not with him.
“You can touch me,” I whisper, my mouth barely brushing his, as my hand traces washboard abs. I’m afraid to lose that skin-to-skin contact… right now it’s the only thing holding me together.
“I’m not sure I can control myself if I do,” he whispers back.No suggestion of going elsewhere for privacy or apologies for being rough earlier.
“You’d never hurt me.” My hand glides past that prominent V, towards his cock. With one finger, I slowly stroke his length.
“You’re killing me, my angel.”
“Shall I stop?”
“Your decision.” His breathing turns raspy, short, and his eyes close.
I’ve already made my decision.
His breath catches as I wrap my hand around his hard, warm cock. When I remove my hand, his eyes open again.
“You disappointed?” I ask.
“In myself, yes. Never you, darlin’.”
“You’re a charmer, Garrett.”
“No one’s ever accused me of that.”
I wrap my left leg over his and press my lower half against that still hard cock. “Make love to me, shifter.”
“Are you sure?”
I guide his cock to my entrance and move the tip along my pussy.
His lips press against my ear. “You’re so fucking wet, Angel.”
“Make me yours, Garrett. Right here, right now.”
His hand lowers to my hip, strong, but not forceful. Then, he slides into me, torturously slowly. I nearly whimper from the fullness of him, from the tenderness as he presses against my lower back, holding me still.
With his breath warming my neck, I feel every delicious inch of him as he buries himself deep. But then he stops.
“I won’t break,” I whisper.
“I can’t move, not yet.”
“Why?”
“Need to commit this to memory. Don’t want to forget a single detail.”
