Forty seconds. That's how long it took the bath to turn from soothing to scorching.
Three days of noble restraint. Forty seconds to torch it.
After seventy-two hours of sitting next to her unconscious body, holding her hand while his wolf paced circles in his skull like a caged animal, Dex was done.
When her lips crashed into his, his restraint snapped and the hunger roared to life.
Her boldness surprised him, and he couldn't help but grin.
Mating her, marking her... it should've sated him. Instead, it only sharpened his hunger. In fact, it made it worse.
He'd been told mating sated the urge. That was a bold lie.
Whoever wrote that chapter of wolf biology should be tried for misinformation.
Aegon: Finally.
Dexmon: Shut up and go to sleep.
Aegon: Absolutely not.
Their kiss deepened. His tongue slid into her mouth and a pained noise escaped his throat at the sensation and taste of her.
He needed more.
