23

“Gorgeous.” He pulled back, then slid his hand over my breast, my belly, then my hip. At my thigh, he dipped his fingertips under the hem of my nightgown and began to pull it up. As he lifted it, he glanced up at me with his brows raised in question.

“Yes,” I managed to gasp. “Oh, yes, please.”

I lifted my hips enough for him to slowly slide the nightgown up. As he did, gold flashed in his eyes, and his lips parted. His touch was soft but so steady as he pulled it up, revealing my pale skin and small breasts. A flush built in my cheeks—he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me.

And I loved it.

I pulled the nightgown over my head and tossed it aside, then flopped back onto the bed, trying to will any shy feelings away as he looked at me. He ran one hand from my thigh, over my hip and my waist, to the curve of my breast, then squeezed gently and smoothed his thumb over my nipple. It hardened under his touch, and I gasped as an unexpected bolt of sensation coursed through me; I arched up toward his touch.

“So sensitive,” he growled, pleased, then leaned down and sucked that same nipple into his mouth.

“Ah!” I gasped, instinctively burying my hand in his hair.

“Hm?” he dragged his mouth over the soft skin of my breast, to my ribs, and sucked a kiss there. “Okay?”

“Feels good,” I murmured. “Really good.”

He grinned, then sucked my other nipple into his mouth, this time adding a hint of teeth. The sensation was dizzying, and my back arched again as I desperately sought out more. Then he sat up and maneuvered on the bed until he was kneeling between my spread legs, with his hands curled around my waist in a sweet, possessive gesture. His face was flushed, lips already slightly reddened from the kissing; sweat beaded on his temples.

I reached out instinctively for his bare chest, tripping my fingers over the warm flat plane of his abs. My tongue brushed the lower lip as I dipped my fingertips into the waistband of his pants and tugged. I wasn’t sure what I wanted—just that I wanted to see him. All of him.

He grinned. “Not yet, little wolf,” he promised, then leaned down and kissed my hip.

I gasped at the sensation. Everything felt heightened. He gripped my thighs and guided them over his shoulders.

Only then did I realize how wet I was. Every touch had made desire burn warmer and warmer inside me, low within my hips, and now it was like all my attention narrowed to the space between my legs—how wet I was, and how much I wanted him to touch me.

He dragged his mouth over my hip, the fine hair at my mons, then to my other hip. He kissed my thighs, both of them, then nipped at my inner calves, making me squeeze my legs around his head.

“Please,” I gasped.

“Please what?” he teased. His breath rushed warm and promising over my center, the hottest, wettest part of me, and I shivered at the sensation. At the promise of it.

“Don’t tease.” I was close to begging.

“Never would,” he growled.

He kissed my thighs again, then parted my legs wider. He was giving himself better access. Access for more kisses, a breath away from where I wanted him most—close enough that I raked my nails over his scalp and tugged gently.

He chuckled, pleased by my show of desperation.

Then, finally, he dragged the flat of his tongues through my wet folds.

I couldn’t hold back the moan, low and long as I gripped his hair with both hands. The pressure of his tongue on me felt incredible—even better than I remembered from the one and only time we’d fallen into bed together. He worked his tongue over me like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted, long, slow licks with hard pressure that ended right on the sensitive nub of my clit. Every touch made me shiver as pleasure raced over me, dancing along my nerves, chasing any remaining thoughts from my mind.

He kept going, working his tongue a little faster as he gripped my thighs hard. Something low in my gut began to coil tighter and tighter, warm and promising, as he licked me. My thighs quivered on either side of his head, my muscles flexing involuntarily as he brought me closer to the edge.

“Elias,” I gasped as I tugged on his hair. “Gods, please.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue to my clit, moving it harder and faster, and I arched up harder, toward his mouth like I needed more, more, and I was right on the edge of it, the tightness in my gut pulling tight, tight, tight, almost enough to snap, and then—

He stopped.

He dragged his tongue up the crease of my thigh and to my hip and kissed me again.

“Ah.” I couldn’t make words, I could only grip his hair tighter and tug again, wordlessly begging for him to lick me again.

He grinned and slid up my body. His mouth was shiny with my slick, and that made my wolf rear up with sudden animalistic desire as I tugged him down for a wet, dirty kiss. He growled as I plunged my tongue into his mouth, tasting myself on his lips. It was dizzying. I was still so wet, so desperate I was throbbing between my legs. It only worsened when Elias placed two fingers over my folds, over my entrance but not dipping inside. Never in my life had I felt so empty. I needed him. Needed him closer, needed him inside me.

Elias rocked his hips down and I felt the hard line of his dick pressing against my hip.

“Please,” I said. I wormed a hand between us and, ignoring my small spike of nerves, wrapped my small hand around his thick cock. “Let me see.”

He groaned at the contact. I squeezed gently and watched in awe as his mouth dropped open in pleasure.

Just from that? Just that touch, even through the fabric of his pants?