Page 57 of The Wolf Lord's Mate

"I don't know if I agreed to sit in your lap in the first place," I said, a slight tug pulling at the corner of my mouth, "I believe you carried me here like a personal teddy bear."

"You are my favorite thing to hold," Nathaniel mused, "But if you had really wanted to move, you would have moved, and I would have let you. Except you don't really want to, not really—at the core of you, I think that you want this very much, little one. But it's a lot to feel. A lot to process."

Nathaniel's hand slid down my cheek, lightly gripping the side of my neck, his thumb stroking over the pulse at the base of my throat.

Outside the window, the last glow of sunlight faded, disappearing as the night winds began, slipping a chilly breeze through the window. I shivered, pressing my body closer into Nathaniel's chest. The male was a furnace, a seemingly endless source of heat, and it was impossible to feel cold when I was that near to him.

"Do you need a blanket?" Nathaniel asked, but I shook my head.

"You're plenty warm," I said, "Do all Wolves run hot?"

"More or less," Nathaniel lightly squeezed at my throat, the pressure of his fingers comforting somehow, "It's in our nature—everything is heightened compared to what humans feel, but I can provide more than enough heat for both of us."

I don't think he intended it considering the conversation, but there was a double meaning to his words, one that evoked images of what had occurred upstairs only hours ago.

Images that involved me writhing beneath him, his tongue lapping at the wetness between my thighs, his strong arms pinning me down.

A throbbing began in my core at the memory, and the position that Nathaniel had placed me in wasn't helping things; facing him, I was practically straddling his lap.

Nathaniel inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes dilating immediately, and I tried to look everywhere but at him.

"You know, little mate," Nathaniel's voice turned low and husky, "I've heard some quite convincing theories about exposure therapy."

"Exposure to what, exactly?" I bit down on my bottom lip as Nathaniel gentle rocked against me, a warm flush spreading across my skin.

"Your pleasure." Nathaniel trailed his lips over the slope of my throat, nibbling on the sensitive place where my neck met my shoulder. His hand traveled agonizingly slowly down to my waist, tracing the curve of my hip before pulling up the hem of my dress.

Watching me the whole time, every move was sure but careful, waiting for me to tell him to stop but—Gods, it was always so difficult to tell him to stop. Not when my body was alight, every nerve singing at the knowledge of what he could make me feel.

But there were consequences, weren't there? That sick, panicked feeling that I couldn't shake, and I was just about to protest as Nathaniel slid his hand into my panties.

My breath caught as Nathaniel lightly stroked his thumb over my clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves already aching for his attention.

"I, Nathaniel, I—" I stuttered out, but Nathaniel shook his head, silently telling be to stop. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leaned in closer, studying every one of my twitches and small catches of breath as he began to circle my clit.

That familiar part of me wanted to protest, to slip off of his lap, but I couldn't help but think about what Nathaniel said before. If I really wanted to get off of him then I would. If I really wanted him to stop then he would stop.

But I didn't want him to stop, not really, not when it felt so good; a slow building pleasure forming in my lower belly with every deliberate movement from Nathaniel's expert touch.

Nathaniel slowly slipped a finger inside of me, drawing a moan from my parted lips as he worked the digit in and out of my entrance, a self-satisfied smile growing wider with every little noise I made, a ravenous desire glowing in those emerald irises of his.

He was desperately hungry for me, but more than that, he was hungry for my pleasure. That look in his eyes was one of determination, and as he slid a second finger inside of me, an electric jolt of pleasure coursed through my body, my need building steadily higher as his fingers stroked into the deepest parts of me.

Clinging to his broad shoulders, I squeezed my eyes shut and lost myself to that climbing pleasure until Nathaniel pressed hard on my clit in just the right way, and I came undone in his arms.

I was boneless, every muscle in my body unwinding as I leaned against him, still catching my breath as the last waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Good girl," Nathaniel said, pulling his fingers out of me, "You're always so good for me, Mira."

For a moment, everything was calm.

Everything was right and safe and certain, and I had never been so relaxed as I was being held against his chest.

But then it came; that murky feeling in the pit of my stomach, dread welling up in the middle of my chest.

"Look at me—my love, it's alright," Nathaniel soothed, taking my chin and gently tilting my head to look into those emerald eyes of his, "You did so well for me, little mate, I'm so proud of you. Everything's alright. Breathe, love."

I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath until he said it, and I took a slow breath in, keeping my eyes on him and only him.