-Harper-
Archer emerged from the bathroom, as captivating as ever. He smiled at me from across the room. I was supposed to be engrossed in reading about werewolves’ biology, but it was a struggle to concentrate with my mate clad in nothing but a white towel, draped low on his waist, his body still adorned with droplets of water.
I yearned to run my fingers through his dark hair while he pleasured me with his tongue, leaving me breathless with desire. It was as if he could sense my thoughts, yet instead of seizing me and carrying me to bed as he often did, he simply approached, standing behind me and planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“What are you reading?” he inquired.
“Boring stuff,” I confessed, feeling a rush of heat course through my body from that simple kiss alone.
Why was
