The Wolf God's Unwanted Luna

Chapter 117: Burning on the Edge

Zaliver leaned down, his burning lips searing a path along the curve of my neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He wasn’t being gentle. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet about it. His mouth moved with fierce purpose, dragging a ragged moan right out of me before I could even think to bite it back.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, my voice trembling with a raw need I hadn’t expected. It was low, barely a whisper, but I hated how utterly desperate I sounded.

"Mine," he growled against my flushed skin. That single word gruff, primal, possessive ignited an immediate fire deep inside me.

I didn’t even get to finish my train of thought before he pressed his lips to the exact place where his mark had settled into my skin. The sensation slammed into me like a blinding bolt of lightning. I gasped no, moaned loudly completely taken over by the electric heat pulsing through my body from that single point of contact.

I had forgotten what it felt like. The sheer intensity. The ancient bond. The raging fire.

Every single time his lips brushed my skin, my whole body came violently alive. It was like he was pulling at the threads of the bond itself with every kiss, making my skin hyperaware, making me hypersensitive. My wet towel slipped further down, but I didn’t care in the slightest. I flung my arms back around his broad neck, needing to anchor myself to his solid frame or I’d drown in the intensity of it all.

I pressed my hips directly into his, craving more of his intense warmth, more of his touch. He responded in kind, his hand skimming down my spine until it stopped at the loose edge of the towel. Then he paused, pulling back just enough to look down into my eyes.

His broad chest rose and fell rapidly. His eyes dark, intense, and wild searched mine. But I didn’t need him to ask for permission. I didn’t want him to. My body had already answered for me.

I slid one hand up into his dark, damp hair, gripping the strands tightly, and tugged his face to the side. My lips found the curve of his neck just as his hand slipped beneath the wet towel to cup my bare skin.

The direct contact made me gasp straight against his flesh.

I wrapped my other leg tightly around his waist, securing myself to him completely, and his free hand dropped down to grab my hip. His hands gripped me with such firm, unyielding need that it made my stomach flip in anticipation. I used the angle to press closer, leaning up just enough to kiss along his jawline, then down his throat, back and forth, mimicking everything he had done to me.

When I reached the spot where my mark rested on him where his neck met his shoulder I nipped gently at his skin, curious to see how he’d react.

And oh, did he react.

His grip on me tightened instantly, squeezing with enough raw force to make me let out a surprised squeak. He groaned deep guttural, raw, and heavy and bucked his hips forward, grinding me down onto him with brutal need. The movement sent a devastating shockwave of pure pleasure straight through me.

That sound. That moan. I wanted to hear it over and over again. I wanted to drown in it.