Page 69 of Crossed Fates
A vibration rumbled beneath my fingers, his wolf responding favorably to my words. “I want to go first.”
My thighs clenched, his growl underlining those five words. It wasn’t a request but a demand. A promise. A sealing of fate.
“Yes.” There wasn’t anything else to say. I could talk all night about myself just to try to avoid this, but why? What was the point? We both wanted each other. We were adults. “Yes,” I repeated.
His lips curled into a feral grin. “Yes what?”
“This.” What the hell did he need? A map? Because if that was the case, we had a problem. I expected experience. I wanted him to take me to the damn moon with his tongue. Right. Fucking. Now.
“Oh, no, Makayla.” His touch slid from my hair, his palm wrapping around my nape. “I want you to say it. Talking or tasting.”
“Well, you seem to be in the mood for talking.” Which was a giant waste of time.
“I’m absolutely not in the mood for talking, sweetheart.” His arm tightened against my lower back, pulling me impossibly closer. “And I think we both know that.” He rocked into me to punctuate his point, and I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Because dear God, yes. Thick. Pulsing. Hot.
I swallowed. “Alaric.” It came out on a whine, my wolf taking over my voice and shredding all sense of dignity within me.
“Say it.”
Damn man.I arched into him, my fingers curling into his shirt and yanking downward to rip through the buttons of his fabric. He wanted words. I wanted actions. But hell if I was too proud not to play his little game.
He wanted me to say it?
I’d fucking say it.
“Taste me, Alaric.” I grabbed hold of his belt, my nails sharpening as I tugged at the leather. “Or I’m going to find another wolf who will.”
He growled in response to that, his arm turning to cement around me. “Not fucking happening.”
“Then you had better damn well happen,” I told him. “And you’d better be fucking phenomenal, too.”
Arrogance darkened his expression. “Oh, Makayla.” He released my back to catch my wrist, his opposite hand granite against my neck. “I’m better than phenomenal.” He guided me backward until my legs brushed the mattress. “Don’t move.”
I didn’t understand why he’d said that until the blade appeared in his hand. One minute, he was holding my wrist, and the next… “Alaric…”
“Shh,” he whispered, drawing the knife down the middle of my chest. Not harshly, or even enough to threaten, but just the feel of his dagger had goose bumps pebbling down my arms.
He must have had that in his pocket,I thought, dizzy as he reached my belly button.A prepared alpha. An armed wolf. A protective man.
God, why was that such a turn-on?
My limbs turned to jelly just knowing he’d been armed all night, ready for anything.
And now…
Now he was drawing the blade along my thigh, to the hem of the dress and back up beneath the fabric. My thighs tingled as he softly traced my skin. So tender and sure, with no hint of hesitation. But up, up…there.
I froze, his name tickling my tongue.
He hushed me again, his gaze holding mine, studying my reaction to his ministrations below.
Not quite against my bare skin, just tracing the edge of my lacy panties up to my hip, where he deftly slid beneath the string to slice it right off.
A jolt went straight to my core, my body reacting to the intimacy of that act.
But he was moving again, and I stood transfixed by his actions, both terrified and excited by what he intended to do next.
