him too, desperately, and under no circumstances did I want him to think I didn’t.
“What’s that? The old saying?” I asked.
He tipped my chin, ducking his head, bringing his lips a hair’s breadth from my own. I closed my eyes as the warmth of his breath fanned across my lips and sent a tingling rush to all the right places.
“Best way to get over a man is to get under a different one,” he murmured, and I sucked in a quick, sharp breath as his lips made contact with mine.
The absolute rush that came from the contact was indescribable. I don’t know what it was that curled through my body, licking the nerve endings every which way with pleasure. Flame like, fairy like, flitting through my body, butterflies taking flight in my stomach as I was drawn to his warmth like a moth to flame, my hands making contact with his waist, pulling myself in close and closer still until I was fetched up right against him while he ravaged my mouth with his.
Adrenaline surged through me as his arms closed around me, one hand threading through my blond locks, cradling the back of my head as his tongue swept into my mouth and stroked against mine. I moaned, and he devoured the sound like it was candy, a rich chocolate upon our tongues.
He moaned back like I was the most decadent thing he had ever tasted and God, I wanted more.
I wanted him to hold me close and never let go. I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, fuck me, and I didn’t at all know where that came from. All I knew was that I wanted it, I wanted him, and I didn’t know the first thing about how to express any of it because I was paralyzed by my insecurities.
He broke the kiss, as though he sensed the two wolves raging inside of me, light and dark, the indecision maddening, the desire, at times, overpowering the back-and-forth bringing me to a low, roiling boil inside that I thought sure would be the death of me. The needle pegged in the red as the pressure built.
“Arms up,” he ordered gruffly, but gently, and I put my arms up in perfect supplication as he lifted my nightgown off over my head.
“Good girl,” he whispered, dropping it to the floor and pulling me close, rewarding me with another deep kiss.
I put my arms around him, the air of the room cool against my skin, his warmth so inviting, his arms going back around me, his opposite hand cradling my head, the other around my back as my breasts crushed flat against his chest and oh my, that was a sensation. My nipples teased by the crisp smattering of hair across his chest.
The hand not occupied with supporting my head found my ass and a handful of it. He kneaded the one cheek, fingers slipping up, under the leg of my panties to bypass the fabric and help himself to more of the feel of my skin. The sensation of his rough fingertips against such an intimate area unused to being touched made my eyes roll back in my head and I absolutely know how pathetic that sounds, but it had been so very long since I had been touched like this. Since I had been attractive to anyone, since anyone had wanted to take their time with me, relish me, as Fenris was doing now.
His hand slid along my ass and down the outside of my thigh and I twined my arms around his neck and lifted my leg, over his hip, around his leg, the material of his boxer briefs almost a satiny feel against my inner thigh.
My pussy ached to be filled, throbbing with desire. I couldn’t get close enough to him and I had to imagine he felt the same with the intensity with which he kissed me.
He turned, pivoting us so that my back was to the bed and he broke our fervent kissing and smiled faintly at me, lips red and blue eyes kind.
“You’re really good at that,” he said breathlessly, and I felt myself blush at the high praise. I mean, I don’t think I was anywhere near as experienced as him in that particular arena. Despite being married for as long as I had been, there wasn’t a whole lot of sex going on.
Of course, hindsight being twenty-twenty, I thought, but I didn’t get to think for long. Fenris brought his lips