Mated to the Warg (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

Caught!

The fingers around her wrist relaxed as he breathed her in. He was still as rock, only his gaze pulled her forward. She leaned in, her mouth drifting closer to his. Her eyes dropped to his firm wet lips. She wanted to taste him and he knew it. But he was making her lean in for the kiss. How could she not? She was so thirsty and the drops on his lips sparkled like nectar. Her tongue flicked out in suspense of the kiss. She angled her mouth over his and leaned in. Under the weight of his stare, her lashes drooped.

At first, he was still, letting her take the lead. Letting her explore the kiss. Growing bolder, she pressed in closer, her tongue questing tentatively. His breath rumbled out in a lazy growl. She brought her hand up to the back of his head, threading her fingers into his dark, wild mane. The other hand found purchase on his bicep, her fingers savoring the hard thews beneath his smooth damp skin.

That he wasn't howling in agony didn't occur to her. She was too wrapped up in his woodsy scent and warmth to notice her missing nixrath. Too busy savoring the heady feel of his tongue against hers and the pleasure swelling below. A slow throbbing began deep in her womb.

What if she touched him the way he always touched her? Would he let her? Would he like it? Before she could stop herself, she dropped her hand to his upper thigh. The long muscles jumped excitedly as she glided her fingers up and down his hot flesh.

She smiled against his mouth, enjoying the feeling of power as his breathing turned rough. The further up his thigh her hand ventured, the more his leash seemed to slip. Boldly, she walked her fingers up the side of his hip and over his taut belly. He answered with a growl of frustration, but that was all. His tacit stillness told her clearly that his body was hers to explore. To touch and kiss as each whim struck her. It gave her even more courage to delve further. And lower.

Her curiosity was unstoppable, her courage keeping pace with her soaring pulse. The need to touch him overmastered her fear as her hand slipped over the root of him. She slid her palm over his coarse hairs and let her fingers trail along his thick length. His cock was agitated, bobbing against her forearm as she pulled away to feast her eyes on him. All of him. His sack was soft as velvet and heavy in her palm as she cupped him. She decide she loved the feel of his soft skin and coarse hair. So utterly masculine. Her breasts became heavy and her sex quickened with liquid heat.

Her eyes drifted back up to Thrax and she gasped. His nose was flaring and his eyes were molten with need. Every muscle under her fingertips trembled. Her lips parted, his scent musky and hot.

With a swallow that sounded more like a gulp, she dropped her gaze, her face flushed. She wet her lips and curled her fingers around his shaft. His skin was even softer there, yet beneath that velvet shaft he was hard as iron. Hot as a blazing forge.

He sucked in a harsh breath, evidently grappling with control. She stilled. Had she hurt him? When she glanced up again, it was to see that violent pulsing lust. The darker freckles—like hot embers—mesmerized her.

But his cock was more fascinating still. Marveling, she brushed her thumb up from the root and slide her hand higher towards the head. A bead of moisture there caught her notice and she wondered how it would taste. Why shouldn't she taste him, she thought? He took delight in tasting her. In drinking every bead of lust she wept for him. She leaned in just a little and paused to look up again.

He watched her with such stillness, such needful intensity, that her mouth filled. His chest was frozen, every inch of him like granite. "Yes, min skani," he rasped, "kiss me there."

With a shy nod, her heart in her throat, she brought her lips all the way down to meet the straining flesh and turgid veins. She kissed him, her tongue gliding over the glistening head.