Page 42 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

“I thought…” She trailed off, a deeper pink staining her cheeks. The color should have clashed with her hair. Instead, it made those charming freckles glow like little specks of gold.

Gods, the woman checked all my boxes. “What did you think?” I asked.

“I thought maybe you were disgusted when I…” She swallowed, and her voice went low. “When I orgasmed in my room.”

For a second, I was speechless. Then I canted her head back, forcing her to hold my gaze. “Harper, disgust isn’t a word in my vocabulary when it comes to you. I haven’t stopped thinking about that day, or how fucking perfect you looked.”

“But…you left. You walked out like you couldn’t wait to get away from me.”

“Because I was going to fuck you if I stayed. And it seemed like you didn’t want that. You said as much.”

She bit her lip, the gesture making more blood pump to my dick. A mix of humor and desire shimmered in her eyes. “I guess we’re both really stubborn.”

“Probably. You’re worse, though.”

She huffed a laugh, and my heart soared at the opportunity to be silly with her. To joke with the woman who drove me mad in the best possible way. “Our communication skills could use some work,” she said.

I stroked her cheeks with my thumbs. “Fair enough. I’ll go first. Your scent is in my lungs. I want it on my tongue.”

A tiny whimper escaped her. The scent in question swirled thicker, her sweet essence perfuming the air.

“Maybe we should try that,” I offered, sliding a hand lower and tracing her delicate jawline.

The pulse in her neck fluttered more wildly. Her nipples thrust against her sweater. Another sweater. The thinnest one yet.

“Maybe we should,” she breathed.

It was all the permission I needed. In a blink, my hands were on her hips, her gasp in my ears as I swung her onto the desk. I deposited her on the edge, shoving the Book of Crubeus out of the way in the process. It flopped open, its gleaming white pages laid bare. Lines of ancient text flowed down the parchment. Whispers followed in their wake.

Harper started to look over her shoulder.

“Don’t,” I said, catching her chin and forcing her head back around.

“The book!” she protested. “It’ll trap you.”

Stepping between her legs, I reached around her and flipped the book closed. “I’m strong enough to resist it. But damn if I can resist you.”

Grasping her chin, I bent and kissed her. She opened under me right away, her lips warm and soft. And she tasted as sweet as I’d imagined, the honeyed nectar of her tongue driving my lust higher. Deepening the kiss, I swept my hands up her sides, roaming her curves. She dug her fingers into my shoulders and yanked me closer. With a hungry-sounding moan, she hooked a leg around my hip.

I grasped her thigh and bore her back, laying her out on the desk. She arched into me with another moan that went straight to my dick. Still kissing her, I slipped a hand under her sweater and worked my way up, mapping the dips and curves of her delicate ribcage before reaching one firm breast. Her nipple strained against the thin fabric of her lacy bra. I plucked at the eager point, then rolled it between my thumb and forefinger.

Harper gasped into my mouth, her body bowing off the desk. She tangled a hand in my hair, tugging at the strands as I broke the kiss to trail my lips down her neck. When I reached her pulse, I flicked my tongue over the frantic beat.

She made a needy sound as she cradled my head against her. “Please. Please, Einar.”

My name on her lips was the sweetest sound anyone had ever uttered. She was sweet. And I needed more of her.

I lifted my head and met her gaze. “I need to taste you.” On the remote chance my meaning was unclear, I moved my hand to the button of her jeans. “I want to eat your pussy, Harper.” Her eyes went wide, her irises darkening with desire.

I slid my fingers down, stroking over the denim that covered her sex. She was so wet she’d almost soaked through the fabric. “I want this,” I said, hearing the growl in my voice. “I want to bury my face between your legs and lick you until you scream. I want every drop of honey, sweetheart. Say yes.”

She gave a shaky nod. “Yes.”

Triumph surged through me. I stripped her jeans off—and then caught my breath at the sight of her in nothing but panties and her thin sweater. She was like a creamy dessert, her strawberry blond hair spread on my desk and her pale skin glowing against the wood. But it was her pussy that held my attention. The flimsy, cream-colored silk between her legs clung to her folds, the sweet furrow between them dark with arousal.

I met Harper’s stare. “Grip the edge of the desk.”

Her breasts rose and fell rapidly. She licked her lips, hesitation in her blue eyes. “Why?”

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