Page 50 of The CEO Alpha’s Substitute Mate

She shoves off my chest, gets her feet under her, and lifts both arms over her head. One leg goes out along the concrete with the toe pointed. She rises onto the ball of the other foot, holds it, turns once, and comes off the turn straight into my arms.

“Have you had enough?”

“No.” She’s breathing hard against my shirt. “I want to dance more.”

“Ariela.” I get her upright. “You’re quite drunk. Be good and come to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed.”

“What do you want to do then?” I’m stroking my thumb up her spine, and I don’t stop. “Aside from dance.”

She winds both arms back around my neck and studies my face for a long time. Her pupils are enormous.

“You’re very handsome, you know.”

“I’m aware.”

That earns me a grin wide enough to shut her eyes. “You’re also very arrogant. Women don’t like that, you know.”

“Do you like that?”

“On anybody else, no.” She tips her head. “On you, it works.”

Feeling a thrill of pleasure at her approval should be silly. It’s a ridiculous response to a drunk woman’s opinion of my manners. I pull her in until there’s no space left between us, until her body heat is coming through two layers of my shirt.

“You shouldn’t say such things.”

“You have very kissable lips.”

She brings her fingers up and traces along my lower lip slowly, slower than she’d dare sober. Then one finger pushes past them into my mouth. I close my lips around it without thinking and suck, my tongue dragging against the pad of it. Her eyes go heavy.

“Do it again,” she orders.

Her scent changes. It comes up off her throat thick and sweet, and my wolf is at the front of my skull with his teeth out.

“You’re drunk.” I get a fist into the back of her sweater. “But that doesn’t excuse you from doing this.”

“Doing what?” she tilts her head.

She goes up on her toes and puts her mouth on mine lightly.

It’s been ten years. Ten years of nothing at all, and a woman who weighs a hundred and twenty pounds has just roused the vicious animal that prowls under the surface of my skin. It’s a soft kiss, but it’s burning me alive.

“Ariela.” The warning comes out with the wolf in it. “Come to bed. If you keep this up, I’m not responsible for what happens.”

“Responsible for what, this?”

She kisses me again, and this time, her tongue slides against mine.

That’s it.

I drive my tongue past her lips, hard and deep, claiming the space without giving her room to retreat. She tastes of the wine, dark, sweet, a little sharp, and something warmer beneath it that is purely her. A soft sound catches in her throat when my tongue brushes hers. I answer it by pressing harder, angling her head with a fist in her hair so I can take more, deeper, until the sound turns into a muffled, startled noise against my mouth. Her fingers tighten in the fabric at my shoulders, clinging rather than guiding.

I break the kiss only long enough to move us. One step and her back meets the safety wall. I keep her there, body pressed to mine, and she tips her head, mouth finding the side of my throat. The brush of her lips against my skin is deliberate.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” My voice is harsh. “You’re pushing it, Ariela.”

She laughs against my neck. “Then push me away, coward.”