Page 103 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

Still clasping the blanket, he lifted a hand and brushed a gentle knuckle over her cheek. “The light in your eyes.”

Now her breath caught. She shivered again.

“Here.” He loosened the blanket, then rubbed it over her shoulders and arms, blotting the leftover water. She stood docile until he got to her elbows, when she winced and sucked in a breath.

He stopped. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Probably just a few scrapes from the forest.”

“Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Doctor’s orders.”

She gave him a look but angled her body sideways.

He lowered the blanket, exposing her left side down to her hip. Sure enough, there were several cuts and scratches. He touched a fingertip to the unblemished skin above a raw-looking spot near her elbow. “You have several abrasions here and”—he followed a line of scrapes that trailed from her arm to her upper back—“here.” He turned her a little more, then smoothed a palm down her spine. As he did, he lost his grip on the blanket.

It dropped to her feet, revealing her pert backside and slender legs. Several curls had escaped her bun and clung to her damp back. Her skin was golden perfection, her spine a long, graceful arch. Her ass was round and firm, the curves plump despite her slender frame. They begged a male to cup them . . . maybe even dip his fingers between them.

Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. Difficult to do anything but stare at the bounty before him.

She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze over her shoulder. And what he saw in her eyes was unmistakable.

Blatant invitation.

Somehow, against all odds, he hadn’t quite managed to fuck everything up. By some miracle, she was giving him another shot.

Ordinarily, he didn’t believe in miracles. But he was damn sure on his way to becoming a convert.

Moving slowly, he put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around. She let him, facing forward with her chin up, her arms at her sides. Her breasts stood out proudly from her chest, her nipples hardened to tight points.

He touched a dark pink tip, and she bit her lip, her blue eyes going heavy-lidded.

She made a low, unintelligible sound and tipped her head back. Her hands twitched at her sides, as though electricity ran through her body. She pushed her chest out more, inviting his touch.

Invitation accepted. He cupped a breast in each hand, reveling in how the generous swells overfilled his palms. There was enough for two males and it was all his.

And just like that, he became a greedy bastard.

He used his thumbs to flick and caress her nipples, teasing the peaks until they grew impossibly hard. She trembled under his touch, her heart thundering so hard he could see the pulse in her neck.

There were so many things he wanted to do, and he had such a short amount of time. His power wouldn’t last much longer. It was as if he stood at the gates of paradise and he could only slip inside for a brief moment.

As he wavered, loss and frustration swirling in a toxic mix in his mind, Haley rose on her toes and leaned into him, her breasts brushing his chest. She put her mouth next to his ear and whispered, “What are you waiting for?”

All his restraints snapped. He hoisted her in his arms and walked to a wall of bright pink flowers that lined the bath. He deposited her on one of the stone slabs, then pressed her back into the blooms.

She stiffened. “Thorns.”

“Not these.” He buried his face in her neck, planting soft kisses along the vein where her pulse throbbed. He spaced his words between kisses. “They’re Zephirine Drouhin.”

“What?” She turned her head to the side, giving him more access.

“No thorns.”

That answer must have satisfied her, because she settled more deeply into the flowers. Vines rustled, and the heady scent of roses lifted all around them.

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