Page 153 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

She lifted her hand and set it over my heart. My pulse hit her palm hard, and her eyes darkened as she felt it.

“There,” she said. “That is yours.”

“Yes.”

Her hand moved lower over my ribs, and the wolf went silent inside me. She took my hand and laid it on her chest.

“And this is mine.”

I closed my eyes once. When I opened them, she was looking at my mouth.

“I’m asking,” she said.

The last of my distance ended. Not control. Never control. Only distance.

I bent my head and kissed her. At first, I was careful because she was hurt, because the first taste of her nearly split me open, because the wolf surged toward the warmth of her mouth with a certainty that had nothing to do with law. Then she made a sound of frustration and pulled me closer, and that sound changed the room.

I kissed her the way she had asked to be kissed. Not like glass. Not like a wound. Like a woman standing in front of me with one night in her hands and giving it where she chose. Her arms slid around my neck, and the mark flared as heat moved through both of us. I could feel the difference now. Her want had its own shape. It was not mine. It met mine, answered it, and pushed back against it.

When she pressed closer, I let one hand settle at her waist, lightly, and she pulled it harder against her.

“Like this Ian,” she said against my mouth.

The sound of my name almost drove the wolf through my skin.

I forced breath into my lungs. “Slow.”

Her eyes opened.

“For me,” I said.

She stared at me for one breath, then her mouth curved in a way that belonged entirely to her own brand of trouble. “Then keep up.”

I lifted her carefully, and when her breath caught, it was not from pain.

“Bed,” I said.

“Yes.”

I placed her gently on the bed, but instead of joining her, I slowly lowered myself back onto my knees in front of her, gently spreading her thighs, returning back to where we had been the night before when I essentially had chickened out. Odd thought for a wolf.

Cassie’s scent was a drug, sweet and intoxicating, and I realized I was starving. I slid her dress up over her hips, and then slowly removed a surprisingly lacey and skimpy thong down her thighs. The slowness of it was driving me mad, but I wasn’t going to rush this. I’d never wanted someone as much as I wanted Cassie, and there was no way I wasn’t going to savor every moment.

I lowered my face in between her thighs and the taste of her nearly drove me mad. The wolf inside had one thought only, mine, but I pushed that aside and turned my focus solely to worshipping Cassie. I pulled her into me, taking my time to learn the terrain of her body with my tongue, creating friction that made her hips twitch against my mouth, circling her most sensitive areas with agonizing slowness. She whimpered and I damn near jumped out of my skin, her legs trembling, almost locking my head in place when I pressed my fingers into her, curling upward until she gasped.

“Ian!” She whispered, running her fingers into my hair, nails scraping over my scalp in a way that made me dizzy.

I watched her body as I adjusted the rhythm between my tongue and fingers, moving faster, thrusting in and out, matching the tempo of her shaking. I could feel how good she felt, how much she wanted it, when I hit just that right spot, and not just through her body, although that was becoming increasingly obvious. But through the bond too, and it was flooding my senses like my own personal brand of ecstasy.

She came with her fingers locked in my hair and my name breaking out of her in such a raw way, before she could make it pretty. The bond between us flashed gold, and for one suspended second, I felt her feel it. Not just the release, but the relief inside of it. The sharp, stunned joy I felt of her body giving me something that had nothing to do with survival.

I looked up at her, kissing the insides of her shaking thighs gently, still lost in the heady rush of feeling her come in more ways than one. I’d obviously felt myself come before, but feeling Cassie? That felt like the first taste of life.

I sat back and smiled at her, but there was heat still in her eyes.

She looked down at me, breathing hard. “Ian.”

“Yes?”