Page 49 of Howl Will I Know

His breathing deepens. “You’re a virgin. You’ve never⁠—”

“No. Because nobody ever made me want to.” I move closer until my knee slides between his. “You do.”

The growl that leaves him vibrates through me, making my pulse jump and my nipples tighten.

Hewit notices. “I can smell you. Your arousal.”

Heat climbs my neck. “Good, because it proves how much I want you. And I may be a virgin, but I’m not clueless. I know how the P fits in the V.”

That earns me a real laugh, making him look younger.

“Hewit?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want this, tell me.”

His gaze moves over my face. “I want it.”

I slide my hand up his arm and rest it against his chest. His heart beats hard beneath my palm. “I’m scared too.”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Of me?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Of being wrong. Of wanting something this much when I’ve never done it before. Of being vulnerable. Giving somebody this much of me. But I still want it because you’re worth the risk.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then he lifts my hand and presses his mouth to my knuckles. “I don’t know how to do this.”

I smile. “Good. Neither do I.”

His mouth curves against my skin. Then he lowers our hands and reaches for me. One palm settles against my cheek, his thumb moving beneath my eye. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t want. No pretending.”

“I promise.”

Hewit leans forward, and his mouth touches mine. This kiss is nothing like the frantic one against my counter or the heated one in his kitchen. It’s a kiss built on mutual understanding and choice.

I slide my hands around his neck, and his arm tightens around my waist. When I open beneath his mouth, he makes a low sound against my lips and pulls me closer.

The wolf growls. Or maybe it’s Hewit.

I kiss him harder, sliding my tongue against his, and this time, when the growl rolls through his chest, I don’t wonder which part of Hewit it belongs to.

Because every part of him is mine.

Chapter 14

Nora

For all the things Hewit has told me tonight, the thing that stays with me most is how carefully he’s looking at me now. Not like I’m fragile or something he might break, but as if he’s waiting for me to decide what happens next. His hand is still cupped around my cheek, his thumb resting beneath my eye, the warm circle of his arm around my waist.

Hewit could move me if he wanted to. I know that with complete certainty. He could lift me without effort, crowd me against the table, take over the moment in ways that would probably make coherent thought impossible.

Instead, he waits.

I slide my fingers from the back of his neck into his white hair. “You’re thinking too much.”

His gaze travels over my face. “You sure?”

I take a breath and let myself feel the nervousness instead of pretending it isn’t there. My stomach flutters, and my pulse is way too fast. I have absolutely no idea whether I’ll know what to do once clothes start coming off, and a small, ridiculous part of me wonders whether I should have read more educational material before choosing a celibate wolf shifter as my first sexual partner.