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She raced ahead, running her hands under my shirt, fingers exploring the texture of my muscled obliques.

“Too slow,” she groaned.

In a moment, she had my shirt off. In a second, hers was gone too. My slow, steady self-control wouldn’t last, not when she—

She yanked off her undershirt, baring her breasts, dusky nipples pert. My pants tightened, taking in her stomach, tight with slim muscle.

My gaze landed on her Brand. Guilt and shame sickened me.I did that to her.

“Not now.” Ayla blocked the Brand with a palm. “I don’t want it to come between us, not now.”

I reached forward, resting my palm over hers, her ample breasts pressing against my hand. I felt her heartbeat.Tha-thrump.

“Not now,” I agreed.

Ayla

Why won’t he hurry up?

I wanted him between my legs, yet he dragged this out, like poetry when I wanted the punchline. My breath caught, half-moan and part-gasp.More.

I thought we had moved past the Brand. Even so, he hesitated. He didn’t seize control, and I didn’t know how to rush ahead.

“Wait,” I realized. “Is it your first time too?”

“Too? You mean—”

“I kiss and flirt… but I’ve always stopped there.” I held his gaze, easing his embarrassment. “I’m sure we can figure this out together.”

“I… I have a nonfertility charm.”

“Oh, I have one too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

With a rush, I realized what we’d just agreed to do.About damn time.

I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him against me. I braced myself against his firm chest.

Darting my lips to his, I moved forward, tasting him with my tongue. His scent of cedar and amber mingled with the salt of desire. My fingers ran up his face, exploring chin to cheekbones.

I found his horns, testing where their base met his scalp. He shivered, giving a light moan.He likes that.Heady power ignited me.

Sound, scent, and sensation. I drowned in him.

He pulled me closer, pressing me into him. Frenzy flitted down my spine, building in my sex. My crux bloomed with wet, adding to the building scent of salt.

Now.

I tugged at his belt and pulled at his pants, pushing them to the floor. His underwear strained, the fabric taut with the bulk of him.

My breath hitched. I’d seen a cock before—the men of the Southern Watch could be competitive knuckleheads. Yet the sight of Zayne’s package, wrapped beneath the fabric…

I swallowed.“Mm-hmm,”I choked.

His fingertips graced my waist, drifted to my belt, and loosened it. My pants gone, I remained in my underwear. Daring, his finger wandered lower, tracing my hipbone. He found skin that was never touched.