Page 26

If I stayed, I would have grabbed Constance by the hips, dropped her onto her desk, spread her legs open, and dropped to my knees to worship her cunt.

It would have been hard and fast, and I would have eaten her like I was starved.

Because at the moment, I am.

The smell of her arousal—a sweeter and tangier version of her citrus and jasmine scent—was all around me, and it made my head spin.

My mind went fuzzy for a minute, and I was scared to lose control.

Because I know it, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself at just devouring her. I would have plunged into her sweet little cunt, and pounded like a mad man until my knot locked her in.

And gods know how long we could have been stuck like that. In the middle of the day. In her classroom.

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

I haven’t been able to sleep with anyone since I met her two weeks ago, and it shows.

Wolves are known to need physical contact more than any other species of shifters, so it’s been the longest I’ve gone without burying myself in anyone since I was a teenager.

Which means I have no clue how my own knot will behave at this point. If I had kept being active, it would be about five to ten minutes—something already not so practical in a situation like this—but it could be a lot longer now.

And she would have let me.

I know she would have.

It only took a couple of praises for her to get wet to the point I was drowning in her scent.

She licked my fingers without question when I saw in her eyes that something inside of her liked the idea.

I could have pushed more.

She wanted it. She wanted me.

She was in that kind of place where her body had taken over her mind, and she didn’t care about the consequences.

But I care about the consequences.

I refuse to fuck her or to go down on her if she’ll regret it in the end.

I want her, but above it all I want her whole.

I want her body, but I want her mind to be in it too.

I want her to want me.

I want her to be as obsessed with me as I am with her.

I want her to wake up in the morning thinking about me. I want her to go to bed at night and be the last thought on her mind, but I also want her to think about me all day long.

Because that’s what’s happening to me.

Because I can’t get her out of my mind.

Because if I have to think about her all the time, I’m going to do everything in my power for her to think about me all the time too.

It might be fucked up, but I don’t care.

And so I’m going to stay on her mind. All the time. No matter what I have to do.