He fell next to me, his fingers learning the curves of me, teasing near the edges of my thighs, close enough, but never close enough.
I arched, my body begging for more. More of the heat.
My p*ssy needed his attention like yesterday. But he looked like he was enjoying torturing me. Making me groan.
I clenched around nothing, needing him, craving him. “If you don’t f**k me right now, I swear I will—”
“What?” he cut in, smirking as he trailed his fingers down between us, slipping them where I was already soaked. “Beg? Bite me? Say my name so loud the whole damn pack hears?”
I whimpered, biting my lip, defiant even as my body betrayed me.
His eyes flashed, and suddenly he was moving—possessive, fierce, like something had snapped in him. He slid into me with a groan that sounded like it
