Page 116 of Wicked Witch of the Wolf

“Didn’t want you to feel left out without a shirt on.” I climbed atop him, my breasts pressing into his chest and earning me a groan of pleasure. “Neither of us are kids, Ronan Pallás. There’s no need for games, and frankly, no time for them.” I raked my hands through his hair and kissed his jawline.

“Betty,” he murmured.

“I almost lost you.”

“We almost lost each other.” He dipped his head down to meet my lips. “That was too close. Seems like it’s all too close lately.”

I didn’t respond. It wasn’t the moment to talk about regrets and revenge, and I sure as hell didn’t want to think about our shared enemy. This was our moment, just ours, and I was going to make the best of it.

Ronan tossed me onto my back and kissed me into my pillow. It was as if a switch had flipped, and he’d finally had enough of waiting. Enough of the small talk. Enough of not having me.

He wriggled his hips into the hollow of my thighs and let out a rumbling chuckle when he saw that I was still wearing panties.

“On a scale of one to ten, how attached are you to these?”

“Ten. I just bought them. They’re my nicest pair. If you think my taco tab is something to worry about, you should see my lingeriebill.” I gave him the sternest of looks. “Don’t even think about it, Ronan.”

“Could I get you down to a one if I offered to buy you three more pairs?”

“Make it five, and I’ll be down to a two and a half. Eight pairs, and I’ll get the scissors and do it myself.”

“That’s a bill I don’t mind paying,” he replied, then shifted only the tips of his fingers, tucked a scythe-like claw under the ribbons holding the tiny bits of lace together and ripped them away.

He bent down and tore away the remaining fabric with his teeth, scraping my skin without hurting me.

“You didn’t even ask how much they cost. They were pricey, Pallás.”

“I don’t care.” He pressed his lips to my inner thigh. “You liked it, didn’t you, bonita?”

“Yes. I have another pair if you want to do it again.”

“Oh, I do want to. Over and over.” His tongue flicked out, and I caught my breath. “And over.”

“Sharing the Night Together” by Dr. Hook followed the Elvin Bishop song.

“Perfect timing.” Ronan gazed at me from between my thighs and waggled his brows. “Looks like this is our song now, so get used to hearing it.” He nipped at my inner thigh. “And dancing to it in the kitchen at midnight whenever I’m feeling randy.”

“Just you?”

“You can feel randy, too. Anytime you like.” He nipped at my inner thigh again. “In fact, I encourage it.”

I gasp-giggled. “I knew it would be like this with you.”

“Like what?”

“Hot and fun and just … everything.”

“Betty,” he spoke my name into the softest part of me, “how could it be anything else? I’ve lain in bed for months thinking about all the things I want to do to you. Since the day we met, if I’m beinghonest.” He flicked his tongue out again. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

My hips bucked as he slowly slid a finger into me. “Better watch it. It’s been a while. I might p-put your eye out with my hip—Ronan, oh my glorious goddess…”

“If I have to go full-on Odin, I can’t think of a more pleasurable way to do it.”

He threw my legs over his shoulders and kissed, licked, and sucked me straight into the best orgasm I’d had in years. Maybe the best I’d ever had. When he was between my thighs, I couldn’t seem to recall anyone but him.

After wringing every last shudder from me, he slid back up my body, keeping my legs over his shoulders. He grabbed a condom from a box on the top of my nightstand. I hadn’t set it out.

“You had plans,” I said, my voice drunk with pleasure.

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