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“Anything you do is going to feel good, Thalia.”

I lower myself over the tip, and for whatever godforsaken reason, the first thing that springs to mind is the berry water popsicles we’d make on hot summer days back at Szolen. How refreshing and sweet they tasted on my tongue. The very thought of them has my mouth watering, and when I take Titus into my mouth, I can hear him hiss over the visual playing inside my head. His flavor is a salty-sweet taste, and while I imagine sucking the popsicle, and the wet trickles of berry juice leaking from the corners of my mouth, I crave more.

Eyes closed, I bob against his groin, remembering the satisfaction of that cold pop in my mouth, the girth of it stretching my lips, and when I open my eyes, Titus is up on his elbows, hands balled to tight fists, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, woman!”

He tips his head back, his stomach muscles flexing, chest rising and falling with panting breaths through his nose. His cock grows harder, stiffer in my mouth. He reaches down to palm the back of my head, and a sharp zap of pain streaks across my scalp, as he tangles my hair in his fist. Teeth clenched, jaw tight, he screws his eyes shut, thrusting his hips as if he’s fucking my mouth. I breathe hard through my nose, my throat tugging a gag, but I keep going. I’m desperate to see his face when he climaxes. I want to watch it.

Warm fluids hit the back of my throat, and Titus lets out a curse as he tips his head back, mouth gaping. The cross between pleasure and pain written across his face is even more magnificent than I imagined.

I did that.

I brought him to this pinnacle.

The victory swimming through my veins sends a rush of heat straight to my core, and I realize, I’m aroused by the sight of him.

I wrap my hand around the base of him and give one hard suck, as if to consume every drop of fluid left inside. The salty flavor dances over my tongue before I swallow it back, and I lick whatever leaked out onto his shaft.

Oddly enough, I still want more.

I feel ravenous in a way that scares me a little.

It’s not enough that I’ve tasted him, I need to feel him inside of me, his hard body moving against mine.

He tugs my arms, dragging me up his body, and holds me captive for a kiss. “You’ve got magic in your lips, woman.” His voice carries a raspy texture that almost sounds like a growl, and when he smiles against my mouth, I want him all over again.

I reach between us to take his only-mildly flaccid cock in hand, and his grip of my arms tightens.

“Thalia, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

The warmth of my cheeks signals the embarrassment I fear is written all over my face. My whole life, I’ve had to fight the unwanted advancements of men who clawed at my virginity like a pack of starving wolves, and here, this man, this sexually charged Alpha, is refusing it. A part of me respects him for that, wants him more, but the insecurity in me is pummeling at my conscience like turbulent waves. I feel like some horny, young girl throwing herself at a respectable man.

“I’m sorry,” is all I can say while the humiliation gnaws at me, and I push myself off of him.

With a hard jerk of my body, he yanks me to the side, and rolls over top of me, caging me beneath him.

“Let me make this clear: I want you. I want you so fucking bad, it feels like blades in my gut. When I take you to Szolen, you’ll go back to your life, with men who can feel you in ways that I can only dream of. Do you have any idea how much that fucking kills me, Thalia? Do you have any idea how badly I want to tear this shit world apart for making me this way? I will never know how it feels to be inside of you, and that thought alone is torture for me.”

With a sigh, I reach up to thumb away a small bit of dirt from his cheek. “You’re always protecting me, aren’t you? You never stop. Not even when I beg.”

“As much as the sound of your begging thrills the shit out of me, no. I’ll never stop.”

I lift my head to kiss him, and I’ll be damned if the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel twice as fluttery as before. “You’re a good man, Titus. Perhaps one of the few good men left in this world.” Cupping his cheek, I kiss him again and smile. “Now, teach me how to kick your ass, so I can burn off some of this frustration.”

With a snort, he pushes off me, and yanks up his pants, hiding away half of his glorious body. When he reaches down to help me to my feet, he screws his eyes shut. It’s then, I realize, I’m still sprawled half naked in front of him. He shakes his head, keeping his gaze cast away. “I want to kick my own ass right now.” Once I’m standing, Titus pulls me into him for one more kiss, then backs himself a few steps away. “Make a fist.”

Smiling, I swipe up my shorts, slipping them over my hips, and take my defensive stance. As patient as the day before, he shows me how to properly punch. How to duck a swing. How to stand my ground. Every time he touches me, my body burns with a craving to feel his lips against my skin. It’s a tormenting distraction. I notice his stares lingering far longer than before, as well. For every flirtatious glance I throw his way, he volleys back a look of interest, of starved lust, but he keeps on with the lesson, until the sun settles behind the mountains.

Covered in a day’s worth of sweat, the two of us head back toward the cabin, hand in hand. Once inside the door, I turn around to kiss him, and smile at a patch of soil caked across his face. “You’re a dirty man.”

He thumbs what must be muck on my neck as well. “And you’re a dirty woman. I want to wash you clean.”

“Only if I get to wash you.” The guarded look in his eyes doesn’t fade when I push up to my tiptoes to kiss him. “You can’t expect me not to touch you, Titus. So long as we don’t go any further, I see no reason we can’t pleasure each other.”

“And when that’s not enough? When we want more?”

“I already want more. But that’s not an option. So, we’ll enjoy what we can.”

Chapter 33