Page 92 of The Wolf Prince

“This won't.”

Then his mouth is on mine again.

And for once in my life, I don't need an explanation. I don't need to understand. I don’t need to know what happens tomorrow.

Tonight, I know exactly what I want.

Him.

Chapter Ten

His mouth is still on mine when he carries me through the house.

I should probably tell him where the bedroom is. That seems like useful information.

Instead, I'm kissing him like oxygen has become optional.

His hands tighten around me. Mine are buried in his hair. And my legs are still wrapped around his waist.

Excuse me while I take a moment to appreciate that last part.

Because Grimm Palermo is carrying all of me.

Not struggling.

Not staggering.

Not doing that awkward little readjustment men sometimes do when they discover curvy women contain actual mass.

Nope.

The man is carrying me like I weigh approximately three pounds.

It's hot.

I'm shallow.

Sue me.

“Bedroom,” I manage against his mouth.

His lips move to my jaw.

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

He starts toward them.

“Second door.”

Another kiss.

“On the—oh, Goddess.”

His mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath my ear.

I forget directions.