Syzar was kissing her—intensely, dominantly, with nothing gentle about his touch.
It was overpowering, rough, and downright dirty. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t escape his hold on her.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue swirling with a damning heat that drove her crazy until her vision blurred and her lungs burned for air. He let go only to bite her lip, drawing blood.
“Alpha, wait—” She didn’t finish as he pulled her backward until she stumbled over the table. His eyes were those of a thirsty madman in need of a drink—and she was his personal oasis.
His tongue licked past her nape. Compared to the disgust she’d felt when Archon and Emorott touched her, this sent her body aching and her wolf preening to be touched.
“Look how your p***y aches to be used by me,” he growled, roughly brush
