Page 45

45

Wyatt

T he door clicks shut behind us, and something in me snaps.

The restraint I've been maintaining all evening, through dinner, through conversations with others, through our walk back, dissolves like smoke. My wolf surges forward, not taking control but intensifying everything: my senses, my hunger, my need for her.

Without a word, I sweep Naomi into my arms. Her surprised gasp turns to laughter as I carry her straight to the kitchen counter and set her down, moving between her legs before she can even catch her breath.

"That didn't take long," she teases, her eyes already darkening with desire.

"I've been thinking about this all day." I growl, my hands finding her waist, dragging her to the edge of the counter.

My lips go straight to her neck, to the mating mark that proudly declares her as mine. When my tongue traces the sensitive scar, she shudders violently, her head falling back to give me better access. The reaction sends a bolt of primal satisfaction through me.

"Wyatt," she gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair.

I graze my teeth over the mark, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. Her scent shifts instantly, the sweet vanilla notes deepening with arousal. The counter puts her at the perfect height, and I press closer, letting her feel exactly what she does to me.

Her thin summer dress is a tantalizingly pathetic barrier, clinging to her curves, riding up her thighs as I step between them. My fingers find the hem, pushing it higher until I can see the lace of her underwear against her tanned skin.

"Look at you," I murmur against her neck, my hands sliding up her thighs. "Already so ready for me."

She whimpers as I stroke along the edge of her panties, teasing but not giving her what she wants. Her hips shift, seeking more contact.

"Please," she whispers, her voice already wrecked.

"Please what?" I ask, enjoying the flush spreading across her cheeks, the way her breath catches when I apply the slightest pressure.

"Touch me," she demands, her wolf flashing in her eyes. "Now."

A growl rumbles through my chest at her command, but I obey, slipping my fingers beneath the damp fabric to find her slick and hot. The first touch makes her gasp, her thighs tensing around my waist.

"So wet," I praise, circling her entrance before sliding up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes her keen. "All for me."

I work her with now practiced precision, learning what makes her breath hitch, what draws out those soft moans that drive me wild. Her body responds beautifully, rocking against my hand, seeking more.

With my free hand, I tug down the top of her dress, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Her nipples are already hard, begging for attention. I lower my head, taking one into my mouth as my fingers continue their relentless pace below.

The combination is too much for her. She arches against me, a cry escaping her lips as her inner walls clench around my fingers. I don't stop working her through her release, drawing it out until she's trembling and clutching at my shoulders.

"That's it," I murmur, slowing but not stopping completely. "Let go for me."

Her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark with need. And I know this is just the beginning of our night…