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Her lips parted, and it took everything he had not to cover them with his own right then and there. He could feel her heart beating, a soft but rapid thump against his chest.
She felt just as good in his arms as he imagined.
“You’re going to kiss me here? Now?”
“Can you think of any reason for me not to?”
Her body tensed, and he instinctively held her tighter. Feared that she would run away from him. Again. He might not chase, but he would fight to keep what was his.
And tonight, Phillipa was his.
“No, Wesley, I cannot.”
Now it was his heart’s turn to thunder as he closed his eyes and leaned in. All this time he’d spent thinking about what her lips would feel like, he never once considered how he would feel at this moment.
Elated.
Excited.
And absolutely terrified.
He brushed his muzzle against her lips. Kissing her was much different than he had anticipated. His mouth was so much larger than hers, and this close to her, he worried his sharp teeth may hurt her. Her hand slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. The house wine tasted so much sweeter on her lips. He moved slowly against her lips, and it was the most divine feeling. She was soft, inquisitive, but she did not shy away from his unfamiliar form.
In fact, she seemed to relish it. Her hand was on his snout, roughing his fur.
Yes, he thought as he melted into the movements. The sensations were electric, and the magic that he’d been looking for had been contained inside her.
The full power of his wolven form flowed through him, daring him to go further, deeper. But not here, not now. They were still in the middle of the dancefloor, and he would not bring even more scandal to their union.
With a moan, he pulled himself away.
Phillipa’s lips were pink, her forehead dewy, her cheeks flushed, and those eyes were on fire.
“I can’t believe I was so bold to kiss you in the middle of the dancefloor,” she murmured. “And more than that, I can’t believe how much I want to do it again.”
“We might have ruined the dance.” Wesley chuckled.
“I should probably care much more than I do.” Phillipa pulled away from him, but this time, she wasn’t running. She held on to his arm and led him outside where she took a seat on a bench. “Wolven, I am afraid."
He hated that she was no longer calling him Wesley. “You have nothing to fear as long as I am by your side.”
She laughed. “But it is you that I fear! These feelings for you. I worry that I have succumbed to the fantasy that you actually are my husband. But on the other hand, I’m excited about the possibility that you are not.”
“Don’t understand.” His growl startled her. “I am your husband.”
“Forgive me, Wesley.” She let out a dreamy sigh and put her hand over his. “So many nights I dreamed of having the chance to say your name again. Not just whispering it as part of a prayer. But let me explain. My feelings confuse me, too. But I sense that you are greatly conflicted, trying to be something you are not to please me.”
“Maybe.”
“But I don’t want you to do that. I want to know who you are now. I don’t expect you to be exactly like Wesley in his human form. I want to get to know the wolven you. The beast that, as you said, watched over me, and resorted to magic so you could come back to me. Oh, this all still feels like a dream. Pinch me.”
“I should like to do much more than that to you.”
Her lips parted in the most delectable O. “I’m still not sure I should have let you kiss me like that, wolven.”
“So I am wolven again?”
“Forgive me if I like to think of you that way.”
