Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,26

where Fiona placed the dirty dishes and incorporating his into the assortment. When he pivots around, there’s an impassioned blaze in stare, one that rivals the fire burning in the hearth. “Bed. Now.”

My heart speeds up, pounding against my chest. I’m afraid to get up out of my chair, afraid my legs won’t support me. Suddenly, my mouth is completely parched, void of all dampness. I obediently rise and add my bowl to the pile of grubby dishes before Ben has the bright idea to drag me over the dining table.

His eyes smolder as he rakes them over my body, from head to toes. An approving grunt follows, and he extends one arm in the direction of our bedroom. “After you,” he murmurs.

Those last steps into the guest room feel like I’m walking to the edge of a cliff, unsure if I’ll jump off the ledge, or if I’ll just stand at the precipice. Although I have some impression of what might happen in the next thirty or so minutes, I’m not entirely certain my opinion is accurate. And the wait, the unknown, is eating me up inside.

Ben’s hand rests on my lower back, guiding me through the entryway. He closes the door behind us. My fingers dig into my brown skirt, clutching at the material like it’s the last item of clothing I’ll ever wear. His body heat radiates from behind me, his hands working quickly to untie the cords holding my chemise together. Strings loosened, I slip off the top portion of my dress and let it tumble down to the floor. My skirt proves to be a bit trickier, as there are several mechanisms underneath, filling it out. But the second the cool air caresses my exposed skin, I shiver. Ben briskly rubs his hands up and down my arms, thawing them.

“Cold?” he whispers against my hair.

What do I say? Is it actually the chill in the room, or is the source of my goosebumps internal?

“A little,” I respond.

“Come to bed, then.” He holds on to my hand, leading me.

I sit down while he stands in place. Peering up at his shadowy face, I ask, “Aren’t you going to join me?”

He lowers his head, lips grazing mine. Hovering just above my mouth, he softly murmurs, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Immediately, the atmosphere isn’t frosty anymore. A miniature fire sweeps over me, inside and out. My legs tremble, suddenly weak, and my stomach vibrates so intensely, I feel nauseous. I gulp away the dry patch in my throat. Submissively, I twist around so my back faces Ben. He unties the ribbons on my corset, and I remove it, adding to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Turning around to face him, I lean back on my hands. His all-too-eager fingers slide beneath my underwear, slowly but surely dragging them down my legs. Eyes golden, Ben locks me in with his intent gaze. My skin scorches every time his fingertips touch me, leaving a fiery trail across my body.

I whimper as his hands shape every curve, from the arches of my feet to my thighs and hips. He works his way upward, and I impatiently anticipate where they’ll rest. If his plan is to tease and torture me, it’s working. To be honest, though, I don’t know how much more I can handle.

Distantly, a werewolf howls, and Ben and I pause. Of course it picks the most opportune moment to alert us of its presence. If this was any other time, the damn thing probably wouldn’t bother.

A sharp glance from Ben tells me—without reading his mind—that he wants to pursue this creature. This may be another chance we have at stopping and possibly interrogating it. Eh, what the hell? I’m already naked, anyway.

“Let’s go,” I say, sitting up. Ben sheds his clothes as quickly as possible, and we bolt out of the room and through the front door. Transforming into our other, darker selves, we dart toward the forest, where the wolf was previously heard.

Think this might be a trap? Ben asks.

There’s only one way to find out.

Chapter Seven

Trees hurtle by as obscure blurs. Wintry air stings my eyes, educing a fountain of tears. And although the moonlight hardly penetrates the evergreen canopies, Ben and I can see perfectly, utilizing our thermal vision. The only animals we’ve seen so far, however, are small woodland creatures—definitely not the werewolf we’re searching for.

Ugh! Where is it? I ask.

I have no idea, says Ben, but my fur

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