Page 43

“I know enough.”

“Alright, so you know that when your cycles align with⁠—”

“We are not talking about that.”

“—the lunar phases, your Heat is its most intense?”

Mouth agape, she furrowed her brows at me. “My what?”

“What about those spots that are particularly sensitive?” My hand came up on its own, but the sharp slice of her glare stopped me. I stepped back and offered my palm to her. “I’ll show you with your own hand.” She rolled her eyes so hard I wondered how she didn’t get dizzy, but she dropped the back of her hand into mine.

Her skin was like silk in my callused grasp, her hand delicate despite its deadly potential. I cupped it in mine and slid my thumb over the inside of her wrist. “Here,” I said. Her pulse skittered beneath my fingertip. I repeated the motion with her other hand. “Here.” She fought me briefly as I tried to maneuver her arm, but then her muscles loosened. I guided her slender fingers to the small dip at the base of her neck where my lips had been yesterday and where I wished they were at that very moment.

We both stilled. Our gazes locked, my hand lightly against hers. Fingers resting over that gland, she swallowed, throat bobbing. Her pulse raced where our hands were interlocked, and I released her, but didn’t step back. Her fingers remained on the hollow of her throat, her eyes wide as that infernal natural perfume of hers cut through the air. My thoughts dulled, my mind wrapping around that scent and the rapid increase in her body temperature.

It was the discomfort that crossed her face as she clutched her stomach that snapped me out of my melting logic. The hand still at her neck drifted down to tug on the collar of her dress. It exposed a sliver of her cleavage, her skin so smooth and pristine that my lips itched to brush against it. The scents of marigold, sage, and vanilla drifted around me, enveloping me, tugging more sensations from me than I thought possible.

The urge to pull her against me was strong. Give her space, my logic screamed, but the other voice in my head was louder. Her face was angled to mine, something in her features softening as the tiniest hint of vulnerability bled through. “Why?” she asked, breathlessly.

My brows furrowed. “Why what?” I asked.

“Why …” Swallow. “The sensitivity?” Swallow.

Oh gods, the pheromones swirling around in the space between us were jumbling my mind. “Glands,” I said. I licked my lips as if it would help my dry throat. “Have you … Do you … Have you ever felt the overwhelming urge to … Did⁠—”

“Oh my gods, out with it already,” she snapped.

“Have you felt the uncontrollable urge to fuck?” I blurted.

Her entire face twisted. Confusion? Curiosity? “What?” Her tone was sharp. Indignant.

“And I don’t just mean attraction or pent-up energy. I mean, you needed it as much as you needed air or blood, or … chocolate cake.”

Her eyes lit up, and for a moment I thought she’d laugh, or at least crack a smile. “I’m not telling you that,” she said instead.

The natural smell of her arousal grew stronger, and my knees wobbled. I swore under my breath and gripped the shelves behind her. “Aura …” I sighed. “Godsdammit … You really ought to learn about your anatomy, because it’s likely you’re going into Heat. Maybe you have before and just … took care of it on your own. And since you’re not part of a pack, there wasn’t a hierarchy to determine who you had to be with.”

She shoved her hands against my chest, but I didn’t budge. Her fingers bunched in my shirt while I was wrapped up in her all-encompassing aroma. More hair had come undone from her bun, and I tucked the white and black strands behind her ear, my fingers resting on the golden cuff jewelry before my hand trailed down the side of her neck. I let my palm linger there, my thumb against the base of her neck where her pulse galloped.

My trousers tightened and my lips parted, but she shook her head as if telling me not to talk. “Aura …” A plea.

I wasn’t sure if she pulled me in or if I leaned in first, but then my mouth was on hers, my hand slipping to her nape. She emitted a soft whimper, lips parted and tongue stroking mine with a certainty that left me aching. I was lost in her kiss, in the soft sounds coming from her. She managed to tug her alchemy belt free, the vials clinking as she let it slip carefully to the floor. Not missing a beat, her hands slid beneath my shirt to rest against my heart.

It pounded as though I was on a run as Aura pulled me against her. The shelf rattled, and one book fell on its side, setting off a domino effect. My cock strained against the fabric, pressing into her and she drew a sharp breath. Her hands slipped between our bodies, one palming my bulge, the other tugging at the waistband of my trousers. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. A book toward the end of the section fell off the shelf.

She didn’t protest, but her hips moved, seeking friction. The next kiss was messy, wet, my tongue and lips tracing a path down her neck while one hand kept her hands above her head. She may not have known what the signs of being in Heat were, but I did. I could smell it on her. I could feel it, almost tangible in her desperation for relief. She groaned when my tongue flattened against the hollow of her neck again. Her back arched, her scent in the air growing even stronger.

My desire battled my logic. I shouldn’t have been doing any of this. Not with someone outside of the pack. Not with a half vampire. But then she was grinding against me again, frenzied and reckless. My hand acted on its own, meeting lace and silk as it gathered her skirts. My fingers brushed against the bare skin of her hips, and I froze. “Why don’t you wear undergarments like a proper lady?” I groaned against her throat.

Her response was practically a growl. “What made you think I was a proper lady?”

“Shit,” I pressed against her without thought, and she let out a moan. I wanted to pull that sound from her again.

“Get in that chair,” she said, though her arms were still pinned above her head, her cheeks deliciously flushed. I brushed my lips against her jawline and gently nipped at her earlobe. She squirmed against me, and I let her go. She didn’t waste any time; she shoved me backward, marching with purpose and leaving me no choice but to step back.

“What are you⁠—”

“I said. Get on the damn chair!” She shoved me with surprising strength, her right eye glowing lycan gold again, and something in me stirred. I craved to bury myself in her, but then my stomach was bottoming out, heart lurching. I dropped with a thud, air rushing out of my lungs into a semisoft surface. The chair.