Page 19 of Bewitching the Wolf

“No!” I chorus. “And she shouldn’t be out there either.”

“She’s not your possession, Jax,” Clem counters. “You can’t say what she should and shouldn’t do.”

I refrain from answering, my gaze riveted to the scene on the dance floor.

And then, horror of fucking horrors, I see Larry swoop forward, his meaty arms swinging Tippy into the air and depositing her on his back.

“Oh!” says Clem.

“Fuck!” says Otis.

My gaze lasers in, every sense on red alert. She’s swaying on the centaur’s back, and suddenly looking nervous. The smile has been wiped from her face as she plants her feet wide, trying to steady herself, but the dumb beast is so overexcited, he’s practically galloping around the dance floor, with Tippy precariously balanced on top.

Suddenly Tippy wobbles, makes a grab for his mane, her eyes wide with shock as she loses her footing and slides toward the floor.

If she falls under his hooves, the idiot will trample her.

In a flash, I’m out of my seat. Human Jax could never move this fast, but my wolf has instilled me with superhuman speed.

I duck under the raised back hoof of that centaur, whisk Tippy into my arms and before I can even take a breath myself, we’re sprawled at the side of the dance floor.

We land in an ungainly heap, Tippy beneath me, her legs pinned either side of my hips and my crotch pressed right against her pussy.

Shit. Things are happening below my belt. Like, fast.

Our faces are mere inches apart, both of us breathing erratically.

And all she says when I tell her she’s had a near miss is, “I didn’t need your help.”

My wolf rears up in indignation. After all, to give it credit, it was my wolf that made me act at the speed of light. I just manage to contain a litany of expletives and instead grit out, “You were about to be crushed under that dolt’s hooves.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you fucking were.”

I dig my gaze into hers, trying to draw out the secrets in their amber depths. I feel her breath on my skin, sweet and ragged. Our noses are almost touching now. Her little tongue tip flicks out over her lips and the urge to capture her mouth with mine is almost unbearable. The throb in my loins is so strong my dick feels like it’s going to burst right through my black leather pants.

I want to kiss her so bad and… Gods hep me—worse, much worse—push up her skirt, rip off her panties in this dark corner and take her.

Swift and hard.

I want to make her mine.

It’s visceral and almost uncontrollable as my wolf pants right along with me, urging me to act on my desires…

I know she can feel my cock pressing into her and—holy fuck—she’s making no attempt to move away. If anything, her hips are lifting, bringing her sweet cunt even more in contact with me.

“Get off me,” she whispers finally, but her body is saying exactly the opposite. She starts to grind against my cock and her gaze goes hazy.

And of course, I should do as she asks, but instead my fucking wolf is responding to her intoxicating proximity, the scent of her arousal.

“Admit it, you love having me between your legs,” I hear myself growl.

The next thing I know, my head kicks sideways with an explosion of pain.

Tippy has just slapped me.

Well, that went bad mighty fucking fast.