“Umm, what?”
He propped himself up on his elbow, watching my fascination with the beautiful blanket. “Your pack doesn’t have this tradition? The bride gifts?” One sculpted eyebrow arched in question. I let myself trace it, my fingers falling down his scruffy cheek to land on his perfect lips. They twisted into a wicked smile beneath my fingers, and he nipped the digit playfully.
The simple tease had me blushing, which was ridiculous given all we’d done last night. Three times we’d come together in the night, one of us stirring and reaching for the other on instinct. It was glorious, uninhibited, and I knew that the feel and the taste of him was forever imprinted on my being. The last time was slow and tender, the final evidence of the wolf fading from his eyes after. He was back—my calm,
