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“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he teases.

I can’t be bothered to laugh. “You’re…you’re huge.”

“It’s the knot,” he rumbles. He nips at my breasts one more time before pulling away to cover my hand with his, guiding me to touch farther up the shaft. “What I warned you about—where I’m not like human men.”

I can’t help the shiver of anticipation that runs through me. He ducks his head to my neck at the subtle movement, the tip of his nose running over my pulse like he can scent my excitement. “You like how it feels,” he growls.

“I’m…curious,” I whisper.

His left hand slides around the small of my back, pulling me in until the apex of my thighs rubs against the bulge in his jeans. “I can scent how wet you are, Tilda,” he says. “You don’t have to hide it.”

“What is it?” I ask.

He pulls away, and for the first time since we started kissing, I see a flash of lucidity—and of insecurity. “Touch it,” he says. “It’s all yours.”

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