SHADOWCLAW — ALPHA'S STUDY
Serena had walked in for a reason that evaporated the moment Finnick Shadowclaw lifted her onto the desk, stepped between her legs, and started kissing her.
Her hands were in his hair.
His hands settled on her thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft inner muscle just hard enough to remind her he was there. He didn't push higher. He just held the contact while his mouth found hers again, slow and thorough, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it on her.
His mouth was warm. His body was warm. Everything about Finnick Shadowclaw ran at a temperature that made her forget things, and the thing she was currently forgetting was whatever she had walked in to say, and the forgetting was comprehensive.
He hauled her closer to the edge of the desk. The shift forced her legs wider around his hips and the hard line of him pressed firmly against her heat.
