Page 76 of Fate, Interrupted

“Norah,” he says.

Low. Rough at the edges—new information about what he sounds like when the control is shattered.

“Don’t stop,” I say.

He doesn’t. Not yet.

He kisses me deeper, and I tip my head back, my hands tightening in his hair. The heat of his breath against my skin makes my knees shake. His hands move over me as he walks me back until the bed meets the back of my thighs.

There is no restraint.

No considerations.

And then there is no space between us at all.

What happens next is not gentle. It is not rough, either.

I raise my head, exposing my bare neck, begging Silas to place his entire mouth on the soft space between my collarbone and ear. He grabs my earlobe with his mouth and sucks on it ever so softly.

I moan and arch myself toward him, leaning back as I feel the hard length of him against my stomach. This is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve craved from the first time he showed up on Norwood Street and disrupted everything I thought I had figured out and woke up my cozy, boring little world.

With one hand he unsnaps my bra in the back.

I snicker. “Way too slick, dude. Looks like you’ve had lots of practice.”

He buries his head between my breasts, and I gasp, running my hands through the damp curls at the back of his neck.

“Tell me what you want, Norah.”

His voice is guttural, his wolf on the cusp, and I close my eyes, relishing the goosebumps starting on my thighs and traveling up.

When he finally flips me around, his hands almost spanning my waist and bends me over the bed, I let out a sigh.

“That’s right.”

I hear him growl, low in his chest. Shivers run up my back, the hair on my arms standing on end. This isn’t pure lust. I recognize it for what it is—a survival instinct.

It’s irrational, but I want to push him to the edge, see what he does, what he can do. Because, truth be told, I’m only a little frightened of this man I barely know. A wolf who could tear me apart—or wreck me so thoroughly I’d thank him for it.

He flips my skirt up over my ass, cool air hitting me where I’m burning hot. His finger is under the elastic of my panties, and I squirm, helping him until they are around my ankles. I easily step out of them and spread my legs, arching my back and lifting myself as high as I can.

Silas reaches around and cups my bare breasts, rolling my nipples gently between his fingers and lightly squeezing them until I pant.

“Let me look at you,” he growls.

He holds me away from him, and I look over my shoulder to see him gazing at me, wide open and waiting for him. I’ve never been so turned on. Watching him devour me with his eyes—I could come right now, but I need to feel him in me. I gaze at the head of his cock. I can’t drag my eyes away. It’s as large and hard as a plum, with nearly the same thickness. I shudder, knowing he’ll fill me in every way, exactly how I’ve imagined.

I’m impatient. Reaching between my legs, I grab him, rubbing him back and forth against my slit. I’m wet, slick with anticipation. I let his head grab the edge and then buck slightly, pushing him out, teasing him until I move him back into position, only to push him out again.

He snarls in frustration and slides his arm all the way around my waist, dragging me tightly against him.

“What do you want? Tell me.” His breath is hot on my neck, sending quivers up my spine. I’m panting now, my breath coming hard and raspy.

His other hand reaches around and down, caressing my opening, his knuckle grazing my clit.

“Please.” It comes out as a wail, a plea for satisfaction.

He has the audacity to laugh. “Beg me.”