I pulled up his tunic, and he released his hold on me so I could tug it over his head. It fell to the floor. My hands immediately splayed over his chest, fingers searching, rubbing, greeting every defined indent, scar, and smattering of hair.

He stilled inside me.

“I’ve thought about this for so long,” I confessed and leaned forward to place my mouth to his skin, right over his thundering heart. The action made him press perfectly against the swollen depths of me. I clenched around him, my legs beginning to tremble.

“Truly?” he rumbled, though he could read the truth in my desperate touch.

“Truly,” I moaned, rocking into the pleasure.

He gripped my thighs. “Did you make these beautiful legs shake,” he asked, rough and tentative, “when you touched yourself to thoughts of me?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “So many times, I lost count.”

A hand roamed up my back to cup my head and tangle in my hair as he released a groaned breath. The shaken exhale made his heart beat faster. I held him closer and trailed my lips over his chest to a new scar at his shoulder.

I kissed it and felt his lips at my hairline. “I never stopped thinking of you.”

“Never?” he asked, gruff.

“Not an hour could pass by, not even in my dreams.”

I heard him swallow, and my mouth moved to his throat. I kissed it too, my name whispered when I dragged my lips over his dark stubble to meet his. My thighs climbed his hips. My body rocked forward, needing him to move.

He gave it to me. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he began to fuck me in earnest. Clasping my cheek, he forced my head back. He studied my every feature with parted lips and roughening breaths, his hips moving faster.

I moaned, long and loud, and licked his thumb when he stroked the corner of my lips.

He rumbled a hummed approval and aimed with that incredible precision. I shattered so slowly, it was near painful, but he didn’t slow or stop. Not even when my nails sank into his chest. My breathy cries were hushed with a soft murmur at my ear, “You can take it, wildflower. We both know you can.”

A croaked plea was my only response.

The wolf smirked as he leaned back just far enough to inspect my flushed and struggling state. “Did he ever do this to you?” When I didn’t answer, for I couldn’t, he added, “Did he make you beg for mercy, even though you wanted none?”

“No,” I said, but I would say nothing more. I took his face within my tingling hands, and I kissed his nose, then nipped his mouth. “Never have I felt as crazed.” I slid my tongue under his upper lip. “So out of control”—I met his eye—“as I do with you.”