“Compulsion magic can’t compete with an ironclad will.”
If Kazuya hadn’t said it before, I would’ve known it then. I could stop—
—I just really didn’t fucking want to.
Sabrina slithered away when my too-tight popcorn shirt went flying, mumbling about foolish humans and their terrible taste in mating partners.
I didn’t know what the flip she was talking about.
The wind blew out of my lungs gazing into Tristan’s darkening eyes. Soft, curling locks fell over his damp brow, and every muscle in his perfect, broad shoulders strained with the effort to not ravage me even harder than he already was.
There was nothing terrible about this mating partner. Frankly, it was a miracle Tristan was allowed to leave the werewolf women’s secret compound when he visited two years before. If male and female werewolves really couldn’t have sex outside of designated mating times, then Tristan should thank the burning skies that a couple of nubile, young maidens didn’t kidnap and lock him in their sex dungeon.
His eyes darkened. By Thor, he was perfect in that tight tee pulled taut over his rigid muscles. Soft locks fell over his lined brow, drawing me to his eyes—which burned me where I sat.
Rising up, I grasped his shoulders and smashed our lips together—clashing our tongues in a furious battle of moans and bruised lips.
I reached between us, palming his impressive and ridiculously hard length. Once again, the rational part of my brain wouldn’t shut up.That’s not a penis, it’s a weapon of vaginal destruction!
That sounded good to me.
My body tingled from head to toe. I swore all he had to do was blow on me and I’d come like a firehose. My nipples were standing at attention, ready to salute. My hole was swimming. My knees were shaking. And we were only just getting started.
I broke away panting like I ran ten miles, and Tristan was no better.
Rough pants heaved his chest too. “Last chance to stop me,” he growled—his rough voice making my middle painfully contract.
I opened my mouth, and said two words, “Do it.”
And those words were barely out before he snapped my head back and slammed his lips on mine again.
Sunbursts exploded behind my eyes, blanketing my pink-clouded mind in warm, white light. Despite the room full of people watching us, ignoring us, messing on their phones, or dropping their heads down to doze off—I didn’t see anything or anyone but Tristan.
The man devoured me like he was starving—tongues battling, mouths clashing, moans pouring down our throats.
Crash!
Tristan shoved everything on his desk to the floor, laying me flat out. The way he looked at me...
Honestly, if he’d given me that look earlier, it wouldn’t have mattered if Sabrina was venomous, I wouldn’t have let a bite from her stop me from devouring him.
“What the fuck am I doing?” he said, snapping my hips to him. “Why am I letting that red-eyed bastard win?!”
Tristan made short work of my anime tighty-whities—tossing it somewhere over his shoulder.
“Our first time together should be special,” he bleated. “Sweet, cherished,private!” Tristan grasped my ankles and held them over my head. A firm swat landed on my backside, blowing my brows up my forehead.
My core lit up so hot and fast at the spank, it melted the juices leaking from my pussy.
“But, oh well.”
That was it. Three words, and I knew I was in trouble.
“Oh!” I cried when he spanked me again, painting the left cheek red to match the right. It was insane how turned on I was. The last guy who gifted me a surprise spanking got kicked in the chest, and then kicked out.
Why was it so different with Tristan? Why were his calloused hands leaving a trail of goose bumps on my flesh wherever they touched? Why did I feel like I could live under the curtain of his hair forever?
Tristan took one look at me, naked and spread out like a buffet, and groaned deep in his chest.
