Page 71 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

His mouth filled with saliva.

She followed his gaze, then looked back up and smirked.

“Keep going,” he warned. His eyes trailed down over the slight swell of her stomach, to her hips, where her fingers pulled at the button of her jeans. “Wait.”

She hesitated.

“Do they match?”

“What?”

“Your panties?”

“Oh. Uhm. Maybe.”

“Fuck me.” He closed his eyes briefly. Then opened them because he couldn’t wait a moment longer. “Continue.”

Turned out they were a perfect match. Her jeans slid down her legs and she kicked off her boots to free them. Then stood.

He took her in. Her lush hips. The vee between her thighs. The soft skin begging for his touch.

Her scent intensified. There was shy embarrassment mingled with arousal.

She had nothing to be shy or embarrassed about. He would show her that. Soon enough.

“Underclothes, too.” He gestured. He understood the power imbalance here—wanted to see how far he could push her.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she didn’t back down. His perfect, brave witch. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it slide down her arms to the floor. He resisted as long as possible, keeping his gaze on her face. Then lost the battle, dropping his eyes and sucking in a breath.

“Fuck. They’re even more perfect than I imagined.” So, so perfect. Round, full, with dusky pink nipples. He licked his lips.

“Shall I continue, or do you need a minute to wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth, Wolfie?”

“Don’t sass me.” His voice was gruff. “The panties, too.”

She smirked as she slid them down. Revealing a slight dusting of light brown hair above her sex. The smell of her wetness perfumed the air. He resisted the urge to charge forward and fall to his knees. Bury his nose in her cunt.

The wolf in him wanted to roll around in her scent, bathe in it. Cover himself in it. Fuck. He was close to snapping. Close to pinning her down, shoving his cock inside on a single thrust. Thankfully, his pants would act as the shield he needed—for now.

“Get on the bed.” The demand was low, rough.

She huffed. “Are you always this bossy?”

“With you? Yes.”

“What if I argue?”

“Care to test me?”

Her eyes flashed with defiance. “Maybe.”

She crossed her arms, and fuck if it didn’t push her tits up higher, shielding her nipples from view.

His cock throbbed, forcing him to adjust his pants.

His vision sharpened, which meant his eyes had changed. That didn’t frighten his little witch. She stood her ground.

He stalked over to her. “Don’t tempt me unless you’re willing to play rough, Rebecca.” His hand wrapped around her throat, gently squeezing. She’d loved this earlier. Would she still? Knowing what he grappled with, that there was a risk he could snap, even in her presence, would she cower from him?