The air in the bedroom hung thick with the scent of s*x, sweat, and the wild, musky undertone that always clung to Darren after his wolf had risen close to the surface. It was primal with raw desire and it made my own inner beast stir restlessly beneath my skin, claws itching to break free even as pleasure kept me pinned in place.
“You’re gorgeous, Brat,” he’d rasped earlier, voice gravel-rough, throat working as he swallowed hard. His large hands had settled on my hips, fingers digging in just enough to bruise if he wanted, but he held back. He didn’t force the rhythm; he let me set it. And gods, that small surrender felt like power.
I rolled my hips in slow circles at first, grinding down onto his thick length buried deep inside me. Every slide created slick, electric friction against
