Page 147 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers
“Kiss me,” I whisper, and it comes out dangerously close to a plea.
Wolf might’ve put me at risk by planting me in the Assay. And he might’ve made me into a lure, then a weapon.
But I am the weapon that killed a king—and survived.
I am a woman who knows the truth now—and I know exactly where I stand.
I choose to be part of the fight for a better world.
I choosehim.
Iwanthim.
Despite—or maybe because of—everything between us.
“We shouldn’t.” But Wolf says the words as if he doesn’t entirely believe them, one finger brushing back the soft hairs from my face.
I lean in close enough to curl one hand around the back of his neck and knot my fingers in the dark tangles of his rain-soaked hair. He makes a rough, low sound at my touch, eyes searching mine, like flames on the verge of flaring brighter.
And I don’t want to be numb anymore—I don’t want to think, don’t want to remember.
“Please,”I whisper.
It’s enough.
His lips seize mine, and the kiss turns wild, desperate. I’m hungry, ravenous, in a way I never dared to let myself be with him, and I can’t help but think he feels the same.
Wolf rakes his teeth gently over my bottom lip before tilting my head back with both his large hands, deepening the kiss. My tongue meets his in teasing, soft strokes. His explores every inch of my mouth, like if he just holds me close enough, everything else will fade away.
I’m counting on it.
I kiss him with everything left in me.
My fingers work at the fastenings of the leather jacket beneath his heavy cloak, and I shove it off him. The cloak unfastens with a flick of my fingers at his neck, and both hit the ground at the same time.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me so tightly against him, my feet leave the ground. I wrap them around his hips, and the warmthbetween us turns every inch of me flush with heat and aching.
I want him—I wantthis—so bad I can taste it.
The smell of sweet sage, the smoke and leather of him, fill my lungs with every breath.
I can’t get enough.
Wolf’s boots collide with something hard, and he stumbles. One arm clutches me tighter to him, the other flying out behind me to break our fall.
My back meets the softness of his bed, and then his weight is on top of me.Finally.He kicks off his boots, yanks roughly at mine. Just the time it takes to throw them across the room is longer than I can bear his lips being away from mine.
His kisses are a drug. That’s the only explanation. This is an addiction to the relief of his touch, to the rough sound of his breath in his throat that stirs my blood like nothing else.
“I want you,” I tell him, and it comes out hazy, a whisper half scraped over embers. His eyes flare. Wolf trails his lips down the path of my throat and the neckline of my shirt—hisshirt that I’d snatched from his dresser like a thief in the night.
Now, that’s just fucking unfair,he said to me once.How good you look in my shirt.
My mouth curves against his, and he pulls back, studying me. “You okay?” Concern knots his brow, and I know if I so much as say one word, he’ll stop.
I’m the one in control here—and it only makes me want him more.
I nod, trailing a hand down the strong lines of his back above me. There’s his ghost of a smile, and Old Ones, the way it makes his green eyes burn even brighter. “Don’t stop.”
