Page 59 of The Weakest Wolf

The sexy half-smile tempts me, and my eyes drop to it. I’ve half-lifted my fingers to his mouth before I realize what I’m doing and jerk my hand back.

Galen grips my wrist with his free hand. “You can touch.”

“Anywhere?” The word slips out before I can stop it.

His smile widens. “Anywhere you want, little wolf. As long as I can taste you.”

I don’t ask him where he wants to taste.

My breath turns ragged. “Why would you want to do that?” I barely recognize my own voice. It’s not as husky as his, but it’s close.

After releasing my wrist, he drags his thumb along my lower lip, his eyes tracking the motion. “I seem to have developed a craving for the taste of you.”

I swallow a whimper. “You don't…” I stop to clear my throat because it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. “You don’t know what I taste like.”

“Then I think it’s time we did something about that.” He crowds me, pressing me back against the counter.

“But, breakfast. It’s getting—” I suck in a sharp breath when he spins me so I face the counter.

“I don’t think you were listening when I told you I was hungry for something else.”

I close my eyes because I’m losing the will to stop this.

“Now, I’d like to know what you were thinking when I was in the shower.” His finger strokes along my belly. “Be specific.”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t thinking about an—” My words end in a shocked gasp when he dips his hand beneath the waistband of my sweatpants.

“You do that,” he murmurs. His other hand climbs up my body to brush my nipple. “And I’ll scratch this itch for you.”

I don’t have to ask how he intends on doing that. His fingers brush along my belly, back and forth, an inch away from where I want them to be. “Why is it so important?”

“It’s important,” he breathes into my ear, “because I could smell your excitement.”

Shit.

“Maybe I was thinking of something else.”

He shakes his head. “No. It was me.” His teeth nip my ear, making me gasp. “I know it, you know it.”

I don’t say a word.

He bites down on my earlobe just a little harder. “That embarrassing, huh?”

“No. Just that—” His littlest finger touches me and I suck in a breath. “It’s not important.”

“So damned stubborn,” he growls. “Maybe we should see what happens if I took my hand away and replaced it with my tongue.”

When he eases his hand out, I start talking. Fast. “I just thought about how long you were going to be in the bathroom because I haven’t cleaned in there and—” I gasp when Galen rips his hand out of my pants, spins me, and then sweeps all the dishes off the counter.

Plates and ceramic bowls explode when they hit the hardwood floor, sending bacon, coffee, and broken shards everywhere.

I shove at him. “What the hell? I spent an hour cleaning that floor. All so you could throw a tantrum because you’re not getting what you want.”

“Oh, I will get what I want,” he murmurs, a warning in his eyes.

I shove him harder. “The only thing you’ll be getting is—”

“Something you don’t deserve,” he interrupts, as he looms over me.

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