“I apologize,” he interrupts me. “I know that wasn’t part of the deal.
Screw the deal.
“I don’t regret it.”
Jagger inhales. “Neither do I,” he whispers. When the pad of his thumb swipes over my bottom lip, I open my mouth and let it slide in. “Sierra…” He trails off as I suck his thumb into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. A low groan escapes him.
I pull back, my breathing ragged. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Jagger’s eyes search mine and then he murmurs, “Don’t be sorry.”
My heart races at his words, and I lean in again, pressing my lips to his. The kiss is hesitant at first but quickly becomes more passionate. Jagger’s hands are on my waist, pulling me closer to him.
We break apart, both gasping for breath. Jagger rests his forehead against mine, his warm breath mingling with mine.
“I don’t know what’s happening here.” His voice is rough.
“Me neither,” I say softly.
His lips find mine again, and we continue kissing, but now my hands are roving over him, rediscovering the hard lines of his body. Everything about him is honed and sculpted. Probably lethal, too, but nothing about him terrifies me. I don’t care if this is still the poison; this is nothing like what happened with Rack.
This feels right.
I reach for the bottom of his shirt and tug it free from his pants, pulling at it urgently as I try to drag it up his body. He pushes himself up and drags it over his head before pressing against me again. He’s like hot silk against me, and I’m eager to feel more of him. I’m still amazed at how hard he is. Lean lines of taut muscle move sinuously beneath his smooth skin, and I trace the patterns that decorate him.
The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breaths as we explore each other’s bodies. Jagger’s hands are skilled and sure, leaving trails of fire everywhere he touches. It’s electrifying, sending shivers down my spine.
But it’s not enough. I need skin against skin. When I fumble with my shirt, he stops my hands and slides the soft fabric up my ribcage. I arch my back, moaning as his fingers caress me. As the shirt goes over my head, he pauses, looking down at me.
“You’re lovely,” he says a moment before he dips his head and takes a hard nipple into his mouth.
“Oh!” I gasp. The movement wasn’t unexpected, but the sensation is. Something tugs in my belly that shoots straight to my clit. He moves to my other breast, his tongue tracing circles around the dark nub until he grazes his teeth over the tip. My hands glide over his hair, feeling the soft, bristling strands as he continues to worship my body with his mouth.
When he slides lower, I’m arching again, a hand moving down to clutch at his shoulder as his lips ghost over my stomach. When he reaches the top of my sweatpants, I lift my hips to help him yank them down. He looks up at me before slowly sliding them down my legs, exposing me completely.
“You’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he says huskily.
“You imagined this?” My voice is hoarse.
“Every fucking day since you got here.” Before I can respond, his mouth is on me, tongue flicking against my swollen clit. I gasp and buck against him as the pleasure overtakes me. It’s intense and overwhelming; each movement of his tongue has my core muscles clenching. He slides a finger inside me, curling and stroking deep with an expertise that leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Oh, my God! Oh!” I grit my teeth, grabbing at the bedclothes beneath me. Jagger keeps up the delicious torture, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to bring me to the brink of my release. My hands are clenched in the sheets, my eyes squeezed shut as I try to hold on just a little longer. It feels like I’ve waited a lifetime for this, and I want to go on forever.
But when he adds a second finger and starts thrusting into me with a steady rhythm, I can’t take it anymore. My body convulses as an orgasm crashes over me.
“Jagger! Oh…fuck! I…Yes!” My moans echo through the room as I stop trying to find words. Jagger continues to work me through it, his mouth never leaving my sensitive clit until I’ve ridden out every last wave.
When I finally open my eyes, Jagger is gazing up at me with a satisfied smile.
“Holy shit!” I’m panting, my hair clinging to my damp cheeks. “I thought you said you were celibate.” I fight down a giggle.
“Not entirely true. I have needs. I’ve been with women…in the city. Just not shifters. Never anyone who could be a mate.”
Mate. The word swirls around my head because to all the world, that’s what we are.
But we’re not.
When he slides up my body, I’m swallowing down a lump in my throat. But it’s quickly forgotten when he leans up and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips.