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The need to consume growing…
I gripped the back of her neck, fingers digging in, moaning and growling. The animal inside was waking. My need for her growing harsher, fuller, my hips jerking up into her cupped hand.
I wanted to fuck her.
Groaning, I pulled back, my teeth catching her lip to tug it harshly. I was heaving, breathless, frustrated as anger and want warred inside me. "I can’t," I growled out, "We can't."
God, why was this so painful?
“I think we can.” Her hands went to her shirt. “You want to fuck me. I want it, too. And I’m going to take what I want.”
“But—that’s—” I tried to get out a coherent sentence.
“Or you think a woman can’t make her own choices?” she said. “I know that's what the Magnolia is really about.”
“I’m not—” I argued, my eyes moving to her fingers, anticipation filling me slowly, the bottom of the shirt came undone. Up, up, she undid every button. “You know I’m not like them.”
“Then tell me, Rook Undergrove,” Now she was untying the white ribbon, revealing her perfectly peach shaped breasts.
“Craven,” I growled, “that old life is behind me.”
“Fine,” she conceded, “tell me what Rook Craven is like?” She pulled the tie from her neck. The motion left the shirt open, everything sensual about her showing.
“I’m…” I tried again but I was transfixed.
“You’re…?” she asked. Her hands had gone to my wrists, and she was pulling them over my head. Her tits were right in my face.
…right by my mouth…
…I licked my upper lip… the temptation to pull it into my mouth so strong.
“I…” I tried again, and my breath made her nipple perk. I leaned in, brushing my lips over it. It pebbled at my touch. I gave in to temptation, and suckled, pulling it into my mouth. God, she tasted so good.
I couldn’t think.
My mind short circuited.
“I…” I tried to touch her but, my arms wouldn’t move. Suddenly, I realized, she’d tied my wrists to the bed frame.
“I’m not a little bunny any longer, Rook Craven, but a wolf. And now, I own you,” she stared down at me. “So I’m going to take what I want from you.”
CHAPTER 47
Rook
“Summer,” I growled, jerking my arms, trying to pull them out. Panic threatened to choke off my breath.
I was always in control; I had to be.
“Untie me.”
“No.”
“You’ve sure learned how to use that word,” I drawled, trying to mask the pressure in my chest. I hated feeling powerless.
“I know.” Her eyes met mine—eyes that had captivated and entranced me from the beginning. “You taught me that, Rook.”
I inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm myself, using her gaze to ground me.
