Page 27 of Enemy Wolf

The next clear image I had was of Shiloh on her back, looking up at me. Her lips were swollen and red from all the kissing, her dark hair fanned out over sheets and exposed the slender curve of her neck.

Bite, my wolf roared. Claim our mate.

No. Absolutely the fuck not. Biting her was not what I came here to do. Actually, I kind of forgot what I’d come here to do. But it didn’t matter because I was in bed with my mate and she was smiling up at me so sweetly...

Wait, no.

My brain was a mess of screaming, conflicting thoughts, like a dozen different people fighting to be heard. The moon pulled me one way, my wolf another, and my human side was just trying to keep it all together.

What called to me the strongest, though, was Shiloh’s scent. It drew me south, to the core of her. I needed to taste her properly and to please her again. One measly orgasm for her would not do.

Shiloh’s tank top had ridden up over her stomach, so I kissed the edge of her ribcage and her bellybutton on my way down. Her skin was warm and so incredibly soft. Part of me wanted to stay, to linger and kiss more of her, but her scent called to me too damn strongly.

I held her thighs apart and wished I was stronger, that I could resist and leave, because some small part of me remembered that we weren’t a couple, that nothing about this night would last. But I took my first taste of her and forgot all about giving a fuck about anything else.

She was the freshest, sweetest spring citrus I’d ever had on my tastebuds. Somewhere between an orange and peach. I took long laps of her while sealing my lips over her cunt to prevent any juice from escaping.

Shiloh was absolute heaven on my tongue, and I found myself closing my eyes and moaning against her body. At some point I realized she was rocking her hips, rolling up for more friction against my face. Maybe she was saying something too, but my hearing had gone fuzzy a while ago.

I did feel the scratching of her nails on my head and neck, urging me higher toward her clit. Once I felt satisfied with my fill of my mate’s sweetness, I gave in to her demands.

I sucked her clit hood into a kiss, much like the many I’d given her mouth. Then I laved my tongue over the firm spot until she was thrashing against my face.

A fresh aroma of sweet citrus hit my senses, and I was about to inch lower for another taste when I felt fingers in my hair forcibly yank me away.

“Stop,” Shiloh panted. “It’s too much.”

Clarity hit me like a punch to the jaw. I backed away and saw her fully for the first time since I sat on the bed.

Now Shiloh was naked from the waist down, her top pushed up just under breasts, and her legs splayed wide. Her cunt was glossy, slick, and tender from what had just happened. There were even some red marks on her thighs.

Fuck, what had just happened? Her scent was clinging to me. I rubbed my face and sure enough, my mouth and chin had some wetness as well.

“Oh, shit.” I got up and backed away from the bed, barely remembering to keep my blanket in place.

How could I fuck up so bad? I told her I could stay in control, gave her my word that I’d respect her boundaries, and I stomped all over them.

“Orson!” Shiloh started to get up, then remembered she was bottomless and hurriedly covered herself with a sheet.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Orson, wait.”

Shiloh might have started getting dressed, but I was already heading out the door. I couldn’t stay a moment longer. She wasn’t safe with me.

I dropped the blanket, shifted, and then took off running on all fours.

Chapter 10

Shiloh

“Well, this is some bullshit,” I muttered under my breath, not for the first time that day. Or even that hour.

At the moment, I was peering into a cauldron. The fact that my potion ingredients weren’t integrating correctly was indeed bullshit. The silver deadnettle turned out to be extremely sensitive to temperature and had broken down too quickly when I threw it in, despite following the potion instructions down to the letter.

It didn’t help that every time I looked at that plant, it made me think of Orson, who had apparently harvested a whole bundle out of thin air for me. Who, after giving me two of the best orgasms of my life, jolted out of my bed like I’d horrified him and then ran out of my apartment like he was moments away from turning into a pumpkin.

And I’d thought Sawyer dumping me was traumatic.

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