Use your words, beautiful.

Lazarus pov

Even before my hands get a proper feeling of her body, the whole place smells like sex and candy. The sweet scent of her skin reminds me of coffee, mints, and early winter mornings. The scent is intoxicating, inviting even, and when I add the intense aroma of her arousal, I think I have fallen from heaven, died and gone straight back to heaven. Funny, a heathen like me trapped in heaven.

I expect resistance, a fierce struggle, but the darling in my arms melts as quickly as my self-control. Her breaths come in sharp pants, and I'm sure she hadn't noticed how easily her body yields to me. Her hips sway to the rhythm of the music; her round ass grinds against me with such force that I feel like my cock is about to find its own voice and growl like an animal. God, how long has it been since I last touched a woman? The last time I wanted to touch anyone, let alone a woman. 

As soon as I get her away from those greedy eyes, far enough to hide this precious thing from everyone, I press her back against the wall and attack her neck. 

If I thought her scent was beyond anything, the taste of her skin is so much better. I crave her touch, her moans and pants. I want to feel her body underneath mine. 

"Fuck," she groans loud enough for me to catch on the desperation in her voice. It seems I'm not the only one who wants far more than the foreplay we started on the dance floor. 

I run my tongue over her heated skin, up her neck until I reach her ear and nibble on her earlobe. "Say it, just say it, and you'll get everything you want, and fuck it, even more." At this point, I don't care how desperate I sound. 

I'm a simple man- if I see something I like, I take it. I've always been all about going after what I wanted, and the day I fail is yet to come. It's not in my nature to give up. 

Yet, no matter how stubborn I may be, I'm not an idiot, an abuser, or, God forbid, a rapist. Until that pretty little thing gives me the green light, I won't force myself on her. Consent is pretty damn important.

But tonight, I want this woman, no matter what her name is. It's a nice night to let go of the worries and constant stress. Could someone think of a better stress reliever than sex? 

Not a single word passes her lips. I focus on her breathing and try to ignore the sound of cringy beats in the background. Little by little, my lips near hers. I stop right at the corner of her lips and wait for her to exhale. "May I?" The words leave my lips only as a mere whisper. 

I watch her close her eyes and nod. Though on any other day, I'd take it as permission, I can't wait to hear her voice again. The anger, annoyance, and resistance emanating from her turn me on to the limit close to torture. "Use your words, beautiful," I whisper, holding my lips as close to hers as possible. All she has to do is turn her head a little, and our lips will meet. 

Perhaps I appear as some overly confident dick because, for some reason, she snaps out of the daze we've both been enjoying. Her eyes widen at the sight of me, and she immediately tries to free herself from my grip. 

"Shh, calm down, beautiful," I whisper, wrapping an arm around her waist. Her eyes dart everywhere but to me, as if she's looking for a way out, a way to escape me. I can't hold her back and force her to stay near me, but it's not like I want to let her go either. A woman like her is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I'm far too eager to seize the opportunity before it slips right through my fingers. "I'm not going to hurt you," I add, silently praying that my words will put her at ease. 

"I... I..." she stutters, still trying her best to free herself from my grip. What in the world happened? Are those innocent words hiding some kind of trigger for her?

"Calm down; I won't hurt you, I promise. Hell, I won't touch you or make you do anything unless you want me to. Unless you ask me to touch you." I need her to listen to me and believe in my words because, honestly, I haven't been this sincere in a long time. 

Usually, I don't give a flying fuck if a woman changes her mind, which doesn't happen that often, but sometimes it does. Shit happens; everyone has family and emergencies, I get that. But when something like that happens, I don't bother holding them back, even if said emergency is just a minor inconvenience. 

If they lose their chance, I'm not the one chasing after them and holding out another chance for them. No, I've always been more of a smash and dash type of guy. If I don't get an opportunity to smash, I lose interest on the spot. 

However, as hard as it is for me to explain whatever is happening here, I can't seem to wait until I can outstretch my hand for her and offer her another chance if she changes her mind now. 

"I... I have to go. I'm sorry." She mutters and breaks out of my grip. 

I watch her leave, and for a split second, I'm glad she doesn't turn back to look at me. Defeat must make me look like the fucking biggest loser alive. 

I lean against the wall, run my fingers through my hair, and adjust the painful bulge in my pants. I can't go back to the damn dance floor now, nor do I think any other woman is going to get my attention as the mysterious cat lady did. 

After letting out a couple of deep breaths and calming myself down, my eyes widen at the sudden realisation. She's a cat shifter in a werewolf pack territory. 

It doesn't matter if she has official permission to be here, but what really matters is that I don't know her name; I probably didn't bother to ask for it, as usual. God fucking damn it, how stupid can I actually be?

No name, no idea how long she's staying or if she was just passing through. If I don't go after that kitty now, I'll blow any chance I might have. 

"Fuck it!" I hiss, walking back to where I first saw her. My eyes roam through the crowd, but since her scent is fading, I can assume she's gone. 

"Looking for someone?" My best friend appears next to me and nudges me in the side; a wide shit-eating grin spreads across his lips. 

"Have you seen her? Don't go there, Dorian, just fucking don't. Did you see the woman in the red dress?" I groan, still trying to spot her among tens of wolves grinding against each other. 

"Yeah, I did. I want details when you get back. She left like five minutes ago and got into a bright red car; I didn't check the licence plate, but she drove to the northern border. If you leave now, you might catch up on her."