Page 102 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“What?” Her mouth fell open in shock, not realizing he’d misinterpret her words as an accusation. “No! Of course not. I know you would never, that is…I don’t?—”
He jerked his head to the left. “Over there.”
She leaned, peering over the edge of the bed to discover scraps of her bodice and frayed ribbons littering the floor of his room. “What happened?”
“I cut them off you.”
Everinne had no idea what to make of that, or why he’d felt the need to destroy the costume, but she was somehow oddly grateful for it.
“Well,” she huffed. “Good riddance. It was nearly impossible to breathe in that damn thing. But now I have nothing to wear.”
“Does being naked in front of me make you uncomfortable?” he asked, and her gaze darted back to him. But there was no amusement in his tone, no inflections of ridicule. His eyes were fixated on her face, watching her with an intensity that sent a spear of heat straight to her core.
“Not uncomfortable, no.” She squeezed her thighs together. “But it’s strange to have a conversation with someone who is fully clothed when the other is not.”
Atlas sat up and started unbuttoning his shirt. She watched, holding her breath as more of his golden skin was revealed to her, as the raging wolf tattooed across the left side of his chest was on full display, as every inch of sinewy muscle was showcased for her viewing pleasure. Her eyes wandered over the corded veins on his forearms, where another wolf tattoo marked his flesh. She stared at his chest as he flexed, then he removed his shirt completely, and her gaze wandering to his decidedly cut abdomen. She’d seen him shirtless before, but this was different. She wanted to know what his skin felt like under the palms of her hands. She wanted to trace the lines of his tattoos with her fingertips, then her tongue. Everinne knew what his mouth tasted like, what his cock tasted like, and she would bet anything the rest of him was just as delicious.
Goddess above, if he stripped right now, if he took off one more layer of clothing, there was no way she would survive.
She would absolutely perish.
Atlas groaned, adjusting his hips, his shirt fisted tightly in one hand.
It was only then she saw the large bulge straining against his pants.
“I swear to the gods, Ever.” His voice scraped the air between them as he draped his shirt over her shoulders, helping her put it on. “If you don’t get your thoughts under control, I will fuck you right here, and I won’t stop until you can no longer think at all.”
His words left her breathless, aching for him.
Wetness pooled at her center and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of her arousal. He clenched his jaw, his knuckles grazing her breasts as he reached between them, fastening a single button, the one just below her navel. He slipped his hands beneath the hem of the shirt and he grabbed her thighs, spreading them. Her breath hitched as he jerked her forward, settling her on his lap, where his stiff erection created the most inviting friction. She looped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, grinding herself against his hardened length.
Atlas gripped her ass and squeezed. “Tell me what you remember.”
Her mouth opened then snapped shut. “What?”
“About last night. Tell me what you remember.”
“But I…I thought we were going to?—”
“Going to what, Wildheart?” The corner of his mouth lifted into a cruel smirk. “Last I checked, you denied me as your mate and claimed you would be my wife in name only.”
He bent forward, lowering his mouth to the hollow of her throat. Her head fell back as he swiped his tongue along the column of her neck, leaving a blazing trail of heat up to her ear. His hands drifted to her hips, floating up to her sides where he idly swiped his thumbs back and forth, just beneath theunderside of her breasts. She arched into his touch and then he whispered, “Unless something has changed?”
Her head snapped up. “Nothing has changed.”
“Really?” His smile didn’t falter. Power emanated from him, dark and seductive, so the bond they shared vibrated with overwhelming sensations of lust and longing. His magic teased her nipples into sensitive peaks, caused her breasts to grow heavy with need, and she writhed in his hold as ripples of pleasure centered around her clit.
“Because from where I’m sitting,” he crooned as she ground herself against him, “it looks as though you’re a little wet for me.”
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Atlas Skye.” Everinne tangled her fingers into his hair, dragging his face close to hers so the tips of their noses touched. “I amalwayswet for you.”
A feral kind of noise escaped him then, it reverberated through his chest like a fierce roar.
He hooked an arm around her waist and flipped them over, so she was flat on her back and he was positioned above her, between her thighs. He snared her wrists over her head, and with his other hand, he grabbed the side of her face. Not punishing but demanding all the same. His thumb skated across her lips.
“Say it again,” he growled.
“I’m always?—”
