“No,” I gasped, squirming, chasing the friction. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you f*****g dare stop now. You can’t do that. You can’t tease me like that, Damon, I’m literally throbbing, I’m going to cry, I swear—”
“Shh,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “Breathe, kitten. I want to ask you something.”
I blinked up at him, still panting, still trembling.
“What?” I whimpered. “What could you possibly need to ask me right now? You have fingers in me. My brain is soup. My v****a is crying. Just f**k me already.”
He smirked. Of course he did. That cruel, sexy Alpha smirk that always meant danger was coming.
And then he said it.
Slow. Dark. Filthy.
“Should we do it in wolf form?”
I stopped breathing.
Like literally just forgot how to exist.
“What,” I croaked, and it wasn’t even a question.
