celiabreslin

…he peppered her skin with slow, gentle kisses. He needed to take this slow. Mustn’t scare his mate.

When she reached out and stroked his hair, she made him the happiest man in all of Los Lobos.

Her breath left her in a sexy rush. “It’s as silky as it looks.” She bit her lip, her brow furrowing as if she hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

He smiled. “Play away, Moonbeam.”

A shudder rolled through her. Her nipples pearled to tight buds visible through her shirt. No bra. His control broke. To hell with this.
He burst to his feet. “Don’t move, Moonbeam.”

He strode around the table. She watched him come, hands clutched against her breasts, eyes wide, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

He shifted her chair so she faced him then knelt before her. His gaze met hers at this level, an intimacy he fucking loved. He gripped her wrists and moved her unresisting hands to rest on his shoulders.

Her fingers curled, nails scraping his skin through his T-shirt, sending jolts of lust to his groin. “Why do you call me that?”

He gripped her knees and inched them apart, pleased when she didn’t object. She felt it, too, he was sure of it, the need for closeness created by the call of their Wolf-mate bond. “Call you what?”

She slid her hands to his biceps. “Moonbeam.”

He pressed in close, closer. “Your skin. Pale as moonlight.” He glided his hands along her outer thighs, over her hips, to circle her waist.

“Oh.” She let out a delightful shudder and stared at him, her parted lips tempting him closer.

A growl escaped his throat. He closed the distance and kissed her.