Page 54 of Howlin’ For You

I press her against the doorframe, the world around us completely forgotten. She smells like olive oil and tomatoes, and I want to lick the scent off her from head to toe.

“I made…” she pants as my lips travel to her neck. “I made us dinner.”

“The only meal I want is right fucking here,” I growl, nipping at her ear. “Allow me a taste, darling.”

She shivers against me, hands tightening on my ass until I can almost feel her yellow painted nails through the fabric of my pants.

“We were going to talk about how I can support you,” she tries again, body betraying her mock-stern tone. She wraps around me until I no longer know where she begins and I end.

I meet her gaze, focusing on those beautiful green eyes that remind me so much of the forest. “This feels pretty goddamn supportive. But if you want to sit on my face, that would probably be better.”

Her nostrils flare, pupils dilating even more until that beloved shade of green is almost entirely gone. “If you want that, you’re going to have to come inside.”

I dive back in to nuzzle at her neck, tasting the sweetness of her skin. “Don’t worry, Izzy, I’m going to come inside you once I’ve tasted your orgasm on my tongue.”

But she’s right. This isn’t a show I want to share with the neighborhood. I sweep up the dessert and drag Izzy inside, closing and locking the door behind me.

Mine.

She takes the box from me, swaying back toward the kitchen. The ties of her apron tease me, and I swear in this moment I will tear it off her.

She giggles once she turns and sees I haven’t moved from the spot where she left me. “Is someone still feeling a bit wolfy?”

I growl in response, the noise rumbling around the small house. “Come and find out.”

“We should eat first.” She checks the steaming dish on the stovetop, swirling the large serving spoon in it. “And talk.”

She raises an eyebrow.

I tamp down the instinct to chase her—knot her and bite her. We do need a conversation. And she needs carbs for all the dirty fucking things I’m going to do to her.

I take one more deep breath and shuck my jacket, hanging it on the hook next to the door. “You’re right.”

“Not to say that I don’t love this wild side of you…” She winks, grabbing the plates from the dining table. “But I do want to learn more.”

My inquisitive, intelligent mate. She seeks knowledge not to lord over others, but to further her understanding. To further her empathy.

“Whatever you want,” I promise. Whatever she wants, whenever she wants it. Every day for the rest of my life, if she’ll have me.

Despite what I literally just said, I come up behind her as she stirs pasta on the stove. I draw her hair off one shoulder and press kisses to the line between fabric and skin.

“This looks delicious,” I say, mostly talking about the pasta.

She smirks but doesn’t wave me off. “Thank you. I got everything from Clover’s, actually.”

“It would’ve tasted good anyway, but Clover has the best vendors in town. Now, I can’t wait.” My hands find their natural place on her waist. “How can I help?”

“You should sit down,” she laughs. “You keep distracting me.”

“Fine, fine.” I back up until I hit a chair and then sit.

I can practically feel my wolf side clawing at my chest to get to her. I’ve never felt this unhinged before. I’m trying to win the war between my logical reasoning and every base, animalistic instinct.

Considering I’m barely keeping myself seated, it’s not working all that well.

She plates our pasta and sets it on the table, putting some bread from the market on the side.

She sits across from me, giving me perfect access to her easy smile—if not a little less access to touching her as much as I’d like.