Page 47 of Enemy Wolf

“I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered. “But if anything happened to you, I—”

“Sweet witch, don’t worry about me.” His hand returned to my face, a warm, rough palm against my cold cheek. “I am never just one wolf. My pack will answer your call for help.” Another low, rumbling growl left his throat. “But I will be the one to tear this dragon’s throat out. I promise you that.”

“Because I’m your…mate?” The word sent a gentle tingle through me, speeding up my heart and lighting up the nerves under my skin.

“Because you deserve nothing less.”

I didn’t know who kissed who first. Our mouths locked together in the middle, in perfect sync. The aching need that had been reduced to low-burning embers since the full moon now roared to life in an inferno. Orson grabbed me around the waist, anchoring my hips to his as he plundered my mouth. I felt the erection he’d been trying to hide a moment ago against my lower belly, and my hips rolled instinctively against him.

“Mm, Shiloh,” he groaned against my mouth before catching my lips in another kiss. “What do you want me to—”

“Everything,” I panted. “Don’t ever stop, I want it all. No boundaries. I want all of you.”

“Even a bite?” He dragged a kiss along my jaw, nipping his way to my earlobe. “My wolf wants to mark you as ours. But I can wait, if you want me to.”

That thought was sobering. A bite sealed the mating bond forever. I knew I wanted right now. I wanted his help, his pack, and hell yes I wanted him inside me. But a mating bite?

“Yes, let’s wait on that,” I agreed. “But I want everything else.”

“My ‘everything else’ is yours.” Orson smirked as he dropped low, wrapped his arms around my thighs, and lifted me up.

With a laugh, I grabbed his shoulders for support. “Where are you taking me?”

“My bike.”

I landed gently on a cushioned seat a few seconds later, and Orson wasted no time drawing my legs apart so he could step between them and kiss me again. “Figured you’d be more comfortable here,” he murmured, running his hands up my thighs.

“I don’t want to be comfortable.”

He frowned. “No?”

“I want to be impaled on your cock and screaming until I don’t have a voice anymore.”

His chuckle was low and pleased. “Leave it to fate to bring a wild witch and a feral wolf together like this.”

“Stop talking and start fucking me.” Yes, maybe I was dying for a distraction and some stress relief from my shitty situation. But I also just urgently needed him. This felt just like the full moon, except my head was much clearer. All my desire and frustrating attraction to Orson suddenly made sense. We made sense.

He smothered my mouth in another deep kiss, his chuckle turning into a moan as I rubbed the length of him through his jeans. Warm, rough hands slid under my jacket and then layers of shirts until he reached my bare skin. His touch was like a brand, searing himself into me everywhere he passed over.

“Cold?” he asked between kisses.

Our breaths formed clouds when we exhaled, so it must have been cold out here in the woods, but I felt none of it.

“No, please don’t stop.”

“Not on your life, sweet witch.”

He removed his hands from me only to peel away his own layers of jacket and T-shirt. Then he returned to me, baring my skin to the cold, wild air and his hands, his skin. Even as a semi-feral werewolf about to get some action, he was considerate enough to keep my clothes draped over the handlebars of his bike instead of discarding them on the ground.

Orson wrapped me in a hug, strong forearms braced against my back, his chest and abs a firm, hot wall against my breasts and stomach. He gave a small tug on my hair to tilt my face up to his for a kiss. “Good?” he asked.

“Fucking moon, you really are a space heater.” I slid my hands around to his back, which was just as warm as his front. There was practically steam rising off his skin.

Orson laughed and kissed the bridge of my nose. “Shifters run hot. But you…” He leaned back and gave me a long appreciative look. “I have no words. You’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever set eyes on.”

It was impossible not to melt under the compliment, especially with the unguarded sincerity in his face.

“So are you.” I drank him in, the wide shoulders, the thick arms and clearly defined muscle covering every square inch of him. The lips that were built for kissing mine, and of course, those eyes. “Where did your eyes come from?” I blurted out. “I mean, did you get them from your mom or dad’s side?”

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