Page 127 of Charming Deception

He shifts to lean on his elbow, staring down at me, his eyes burning in the faint firelight. “Don’t go.”

“You want me to be your possession instead?” My voice quivers a little.

“I want a lot of things. Right now, I want to make you warm.”

“How?”

“Let me touch you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop whenever you want me to.”

Well, well. Wolf; he’s really a tricky bastard.

Megan had explained it like Rowan had seduced Wolf. And she did, in a way. She’s definitely peppered him endlessly with questions about sex, ever since he opened that door. When they’re both fully dressed.

Innocently, and sometimes not so innocently.

But they’re both toying with each other pretty good by now.

“You can’t fuck me,” I tell him.

“I wasn’t going to.”

His hand claims my breast beneath the furs, and my breath catches. He strokes my nipple in gentle, teasing strokes. Then he pinches it.

I let out a little cry of pleasure without meaning to, and his eyes glaze over in a way I’ve never seen anyone’s do.

“If I do something you don’t like,” he says, his voice low and husky, “or if I hurt you, tell me so. I’ll stop.”

I nod, unable to locate my voice.

He disappears beneath the furs.

I hesitate there.

Then I skip ahead.

I don’t know why. I lap up every word of Megan’s books. The knife fights, the grueling hand-to-hand battles, when Wolf nearly gets killed to save Rowan’s life? The long treks through the wilderness as they grow low on food? The hunting, the hunger, the endless bickering? Every. Word.

But for some reason, I have trouble reading the sex scenes in their entirety. I just can’t seem to keep from skimming faster and faster, devouring them, searching for clues about Megan, like I’m starving and her words are my only sustenance.

“Does it feel good?” he asks between licks.

It does, and I whimper.

“You’ll like how it feels when you come this way, I promise.” And with that, he licks me toward my peak.

I didn’t know it would be like this.

I explode against the affections of his mouth before I know I’m going to, my flesh clutching at the fingers he’s slipped inside me, and I cry out again and again. Because he has control, the pleasure is so intense, I don’t know how to contain it.

I scream and cry and buck.

He kisses the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, watching me, as I try to catch my breath, then starts licking me again. He draws his fingers out partway and curls them forward, caressing me inside. He rocks his hand back and forth, stroking me as he takes my softest flesh in his mouth and suckles me until I explode again.

My hips lift off the ground and I cry out his name.

When I’ve stopped writhing, he slips his fingers out and kisses my soft, spent flesh as I shiver, the sudden cold raising goose bumps on my skin.

He draws the furs over me and I curl against his chest, stunned and panting.

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