“I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about,” came his husky drawl. He had dropped his head to my height and was, right at the moment, nuzzling my neck in a sensual manner that made me slightly weak to the knees. I would never admit it to him but his deep, bedroom voice made a shiver run down my spine.
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” I countered, pouting then dampening my lips as I noticed his gaze on me –though not directly but through the mirror.
“Sure, you haven’t!” his tone was mid-sarcastic mid-bitter, his narrowed eyes the sole evidence of how annoyed he was.
“Let me go,” I commanded offhandedly, finally coming back to my senses. I could NOT allow myself to be seduced by him.
Not now, not ever! My panicking mind screamed at me.
“What if I don’t want to?”
Does he have a death wish or something? I could barely contain my anger.
“Sooner or later, you’ll have to,” I was seething yet, surprisingly enough, my voice came out calm, controlled. “We wouldn’t want them to come looking for us.” I taunted, referring to our dates, then immediately regretted as I noticed the darkening of his eyes.
Wrong move! I inwardly bellowed at myself for my stupidity. I knew he must have been hanging by a thread, yet I just had to make him lose what little self-control he had left.
In a heartbeat, he had me on the all-in-marble counter that separated the two sinks the ladies’ room had to offer.
His hands were firmly – and somehow possessively so, I might add – holding my bottom, his hips nestling down in the space that my opened legs allowed since he had somehow forced them to wrap around his middle.
“What...” the protest died on my lips since he chose that moment to possess my mouth with his.
His mouth was devouring mine, his tongue furiously battling with mine, commanding submission; a submission I was not willing to show for probably less than ten seconds before I gave in.
He growled deep in his throat in appreciation while pressing himself against me and I suddenly couldn’t help the moan that fell off my lips right into his. He seemed to savor the sound.
Seconds later – though it could have been minutes, I couldn’t say for sure – he freed me of his devilish mouth. I might have groaned in response but I was actually thankful he did for if it wasn’t for him breaking the kiss, I would have probably died with my lips glued to his, not strong enough to come out for a breath no matter how necessary it was.
The kiss was simply ravaging. There was no denying his techniques.
His lips trailed down my neck, leaving me panting, gasping for breath, a muttering mess. My mind was foggy and seemed completely incapable of any linear thought. Upon finding my sweet spot, to which I had responded with a muffled moan, he started nibbling on it, making me go wilder for him if that was even possible. My hips bucked involuntarily against his, unconsciously seeking more and I had to bite on my lower lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape upon feeling the evidence of his arousal pressing against me.
“I want to hear you moan for me,” I thought I heard him say right before he sucked on my sweet spot with renewed passion.
I obliged, not because I wanted to please him, but because I simply could no longer hold back my moans.
He straightened up a little bit, just enough to be at eye-level with me, a smug smirk plastered on his face, before leaning in to give me another kiss that was less forceful than the first but just as passionate.
All too soon, he broke away, making me whimper and reach out to him. I framed his face then brought his lips back to mine – or at least, that was what I tried to achieve.
“What do you want?” he asked hotly, cockily. His husky, lust-filled voice was such a turn on, I could barely believe it.
I kept looking at his lips, damning him with all my might for not giving me what I desperately – and very obviously so – wanted. I tried to force his lips back on mine again and was not surprised to find out I had failed again.
“What do you want?” he repeated oh-so-arrogantly, his darkened eyes glinting.
That seemed to set the wheels in motion. My mind cleared and began to function again.
What the hell have I done? I mentally yelled at myself for giving in so easily to the temptation that was Jonathan.
I abruptly dropped my legs from his middle, straightened up ever so slightly, pushed against his chest, managing to put some space between us, and then gave him a look full of loathing –a reproaching glare that I wished would make him seriously consider his next words.
“You pulled a fast one on me, alpha!” I spat out, angrier at myself if anything.
He stepped back, allowing me some much needed distance. His proximity was dangerous; I was not immune to him; I knew that already... then how the hell did I end up having a make-out session with him?
In the restaurant ladies’ room of all places, a snarky voice filled my mind, almost making me choke on my own saliva when I was reminded of my date sitting out there, waiting for my return.
“Do remember you enjoyed it,” was the sole answer I was given before he turned on his heels, leaving me to my thoughts, alone with my mind-blocking loss.
I had indeed enjoyed it thoroughly. My skin was still buzzing, my body still humming, singing to him, begging to be possessed. How could I want him so much when there was nothing, I felt but contempt, hatred – and admittedly, a little bit of fear – every single time I thought about werewolves?
