His rough exhale hitched. The hands at my back trembled when I stroked his nose with mine and then pulled myself up with my hands on his shoulders.

He reached between us to feed his cock to my body. I lowered onto it, my teeth catching my lip as I was slowly stretched and filled. Taking my chin, Scythe untucked my lip and groaned. “Nothing has ever felt so fucking good.”

I agreed with a slight nod, my arms twining around his neck again.

He gripped my hips and stole my mouth with his. I opened for his tongue and met it with my own. With tentative touches that matched the slow rocking of my hips, they dueled and danced as I tried to work all of him inside my body.

Scythe cursed, tearing away to grip the back of my head and kiss along my jaw. His arm banded tight at my lower back and pushed me down on him.

I moaned at the burn, at the burst of fire that filled every vein, and clasped his neck and hair as my back arched. A low growl, and then I was tilted backward, forced to take every inch of him. The hungry heat of his lips and tongue was everywhere—upon my breasts, my clavicle, and then my throat.

Holding me suspended over him, the wolf used the arm at my lower back to rock me over his cock. The burn subsided into a growing inferno as he ground me against him and remained planted deep.

When I tugged at his thick hair, wanting the closeness back, his mouth left my throat, but he didn’t leave my body. He kept us joined as he laid me down, my head cradled in his large palm. He held himself above me with his forearm resting beside my head on the fire-warmed stone.

His nostrils flared when my legs climbed over his ass, my feet digging with every circle of his powerful hips. I wanted his mouth on mine, but more than that, I wanted to watch him as he ruined me by finally withdrawing to begin a rhythm of slow thrusts.

Firelight highlighted the shadows of his muscles and the rigid state of his jaw as his glowing gaze remained fixed on my face. My hands trailed over the bulging masses in his arms, and he shivered. I reached his upper back, then froze, cursing.

Scythe chuckled, low and throaty, slamming harder as he entered my body.

I moaned, my thighs trembling.

He skimmed his nose over my cheek. “Good?”

I swallowed, exhaling, “Yes,” when his thrusts gentled again. “Scythe, I need…”

“Not yet,” he said, and then he rose until I was once again seated within his lap. Breath tumbled from me, fast and searing. He clasped the side of my face, thick fingers tangling in my hair, and kissed my nose. “Breathe, wildflower.”