Page 100 of The Wolf Prince

His eyes flare brighter.

Oh.

I like that answer.

He kisses me. Touches me.

Goddess, he never stops touching me.

My breasts. Hips. Belly. Thighs.

It’s almost reverent. Like he's savoring something he's wanted for far too long.

And somehow that's worse. Or better.

Definitely better.

My fingers tighten in his hair. I kiss his neck. Trace the muscles on his back.

His forehead settles against mine.

One last pause.

One last chance.

“Still sure about this?”

My chest aches at the question. At the restraint behind it. At the fact that I can practically feel how badly he wants me, and he's still waiting.

For me.

I hold his gaze.

No hiding. No nervous joke. No letting someone else decide what I want because saying it aloud scares me.

“Yes.”

His eyes search mine.

“Yes, what?”

Oh, the arrogant bastard.

I almost laugh. Almost.

Instead, I pull him closer.

His thrusts are shallow now. Almost completely stopped. My desire is dripping down my thighs and his, making a mess of us.

And I swear I might kill him if he doesn’t move.

“Yes, Grimm. I want you. Please, don’t stop.”

Whatever restraint he has left shatters.

“Mine.”

The word is barely more than a whisper. Something inside me answers anyway. He withdraws almost completely, then presses inside, and magic rushes through the room.