Page 33 of The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart

I love the way he says my name.

Fuck.

"Well, maybe you should mind your own," I suggest. "Because I promise you one thing, Graham, you won't be able to match my speed when the time comes."

Graham tips his head back and laughs. The rich sound makes my insides twirl. "I'm not sure whether you do it on purpose or you're simply forgetting that out of the two of us, I'm the shifter. And trust me when I say, my wolf can match and double everything you throw at us."

I gulp and avert my eyes downward. They land on the two bottles of wine in his hands.

"We should start drinking," I say in a small voice. I'd prefer not to remember any of this later on. Or anything at all. To be honest, it is starting to feel like too much.

"Way to change the subject," he comments. "And the night hasn't even begun."

"Do I have to remind you that this is a strictly business dinner?" I say, hoping to regain some composure.

"I will follow your lead, Cassidy," he says, taking his sweet time to taste the name on his tongue. "As long as you behave, I won't do anything you don't want me to."

I should press the matter. Instead, I lower my head and work on setting the table. Maybe he'll be able to smell that I'm still scared shitless of him.

"No need to be tense, Cassidy," Graham whispers, his face dangerously close to mine, his breath tickling my neck, his masculine scent penetrating my nostrils. "Even if you don't trust me, your body does. Listen to it. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Yes, there is, I want to yell at him.

I am afraid. Terrified, in fact.

Afraid of the strange sensations he evokes in me. Afraid to ask him to fill the emptiness inside me.

Desperate to hold on to the ghostly threads I'm weaving between us, trying to prolong the inevitable—our separation or worse, my death.

I am the worst kind of stupid. It's almost refreshing. I have to remind myself that it's just wrong, because after all, he's a wolf.

But I also haven't been with anyone ever since Tim and I broke up. We’d dated for two years, during which we weren't very sexually active, but at least there was an occasional release.

Damn, how long has it been? A year? One and a half?

Too long.

That's how long it has been. Too damn long.

What is happening? I'm developing a crush on a man who'll make my life hell on Monday, and I'm doing it in record time.

Shouldn't I be afraid, even cautious when I'm dealing with someone who can rip my throat open with a couple of savage bites? Yes.

Yet he smells too good and looks delicious and he is too attentive toward me.

But if I wasn't thinking with my vagina, I'd have run away from his presence screaming. Unfortunately, I'm way past that phase, and I can't seem to shut the door anymore.

His presence makes me crave forbidden things. And that's fucking terrifying.

However, now that he's by my side, I'm starting to feel safer. How is that even possible?

The more confused my head becomes, the greater my cravings. Now I'm even wishing to be his in ways I can't even define.

I wouldn't mind belonging to him.

Belonging to him? I must be losing my mind. As if he would keep me around once I've served my purpose.

"Do you have a wine opener?" Graham whispers against my neck. The vibration of his breath reverberates through my soul.

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