That monster—who held the fate of half a million wolves in his hands, who had torn an Alpha's jaw from the arena with his bare hands—now kneeling between my legs like an ordinary servant... The sight sent a raw, electric surge straight through my heart.
His large, calloused hands climbed up the back of my legs, gripping my thighs with enough force to bruise them, then spreading them apart to make room for his broad shoulders. He buried his face in the damp warmth of my inner thigh; as he took a deep breath, a hoarse, heavy growl trembled against my skin.
"Varg..." I breathed, my fingers instantly clinging to his wet, auburn hair, pinning him in place. "Look at my face."
He lifted his head; droplets of water and wild soap suds trickled down from his chin onto the marble. His face was a mask of pure, animalistic focus; his lips slightly parted, his tongue moistening the tips of his sharp teeth. He stood like a obedient soldier awaiting the order to tear apart.
