He kneaded my breasts with surprising gentleness given the speed with which we were racing toward the finish. I arched up into his touch, wanting more, more, more.
Dirge tweaked a n****e with one hand, sending a spiral of need straight to my c**t as the other hand trailed down, slowly pushing the dress the rest of the way down. The thin prick of his wolf’s claws at his fingertips showed me just how on edge he was and nearly sent me over the edge to an early orgasm.
He exposed my lacy white thong a moment later as another rumble of pleasure barreled out of his chest, sending vibrations through me everywhere he touched me. But what really shook me to the core was one little word, projected as clearly as if he had spoken right into my mind.
Mine.
FIFTY-THREE
Dirge
M
ine.
I didn’t mean
