"You’re... you’re moving way too fast..." I managed to gasp out between his hungry kisses, breathless and struggling for air. "Magnus, please... give me time... it’s too soon for this..."
"It’s not too soon. It’s not too fucking soon at all," he growled, low and raspy, his sharp teeth nipping at my swollen bottom lip until I cried out in pain.
"I’ve waited long enough. I suffered through weeks of holding back just so you could get used to me. I restrained myself every time I wanted to pin you against the wall and take you until you passed out. I physically can’t endure it anymore, do you hear me? You tried to run from me... and just the thought of it tears me apart from the inside out. You were in that house with that fucking bastard... and he touched you..."
I intercepted his searing palm as it claimed my trembling hand, crushing our fingers together in a brutal, interlocking grip that bordered on pain. His eyes never left mine—dark fire swirling with raw obsession—as he guided my hand slowly down the hard planes of his torso. Over the ridged muscles of his abdomen. Straight to the thick, straining length of him beneath the fabric of his pants.
The second my palm settled there, the full, inhuman size of him registered. Enormous. Scorching. Iron-hard and pulsing against my skin as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Reflex made me try to jerk away, the way one recoils from red-hot metal.
His grip turned iron. He refused to let me retreat.
"Don’t you dare be afraid of what’s going to be inside you," he whispered, the words soft yet edged with threat. His breath burned across my face as he forced my shaking hand to stroke him—slow, deliberate strokes up and down the thick ridge, pressing harder, making certain I felt every impossible inch.
Then, still holding my gaze, he shoved my cold palm beneath the tight waistband of his pants and boxers. Bare skin. Scalding heat. Velvet over steel.
The direct contact sent a fine, uncontrollable tremor racing from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.
"Feel that?" he growled, the sound pure wolf. "Feel how it answers only to you? No one else has ever pulled even a fraction of this hunger from me. I could devour you whole."
"Magnus... I’m... I’m scared..." The words left me in broken pants. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look down, unable to fully accept what filled my hand.
"Look at me. Open your eyes. Now." The command cracked like a whip. His free hand seized my chin, fingers digging in hard enough that his nails bit flesh and a sharp cry escaped me. "I want every emotion in those eyes. I want to watch you come apart. Open them. Show me."
Slowly, against every instinct, I forced my heavy lids up and met the feral darkness staring back—hunger and something far more primal, more possessive, thrashing behind his control. A slow, predatory curve touched the corner of his mouth at the sight of my fear and reluctant arousal.
"That’s it. Just like that. Good, obedient girl."
His free hand slid down my body, mapping every curve, leaving trails of heat and claim. He dragged the ruined remnants of my jeans down until they hung useless around my calves. Awkward, trembling, I lifted my hips to help him, not entirely certain my body still belonged to me. Everything inside me fluttered on the edge of panic and need.
Magnus’s fingertips traced a burning path along the sensitive inner skin of my thigh, climbing higher with deliberate, tormenting slowness, savoring every shaky breath I took. When those hot fingers finally pressed against the thin, already-damp fabric between my legs, my whole body jolted. I arched, trying instinctively to twist away.
His other hand clamped down on my thigh, pinning me in place.
"Don’t you dare pull away from me," he snarled, the wolf rising fully in his voice. "Never run. You’re already soaked for me." Satisfaction roughened the growl as he stroked firmly over the wet cloth, pressing harder than necessary. "Good girl. Your body knows exactly who it belongs to—what it craves—even if that pretty little mind of yours is still too frightened to admit it. It’s ready to take me."
I dragged in a breath and it scalded my lungs like steam. His scent—thick, dark, pure pheromone—flooded every cell, ripping through thought and body alike until nothing remained but the need to submit to him.
Magnus hooked one finger in the thin fabric of my panties and yanked it aside with a rough, impatient tug that nearly tore the cloth. Cool air kissed my bare, slick folds for a heartbeat before his scorching fingers slid through them, gathering the wetness and smearing it in deliberate strokes.
The first direct touch of skin to skin detonated through me like lightning. My back arched hard, nails digging deep into the broad muscles of his shoulders. I felt the skin break beneath them, the hot well of blood, and still I clung tighter.
"Magnus—" His name tore out of me in a broken, shameless moan. Every nerve in my body sang it.
"Shh, easy, sweetheart," he murmured against my throat, the words threaded with dark satisfaction. His mouth trailed fire down my neck, across my collarbones, teeth scraping and nipping, leaving wet, burning marks that would bruise. Claiming marks. "Relax for me. Give in. I only want to make you feel good right now—open you, prepare you. After that I’ll take what’s already mine."
Slowly, watching every flicker of my face, he pressed the tip of one thick finger inside me. The stretch was sharp, unfamiliar. A high, startled cry left my lips as my body clenched hard around the intrusion, trying to push him out even as liquid heat flooded me.
"Fuck... so hot. So goddamn hot." The growl that rolled out of him was pure animal—admiration and raw, almost painful hunger tangled together. "You’re killing me. Do you understand that? I’m seconds from ripping these useless scraps off you, bending you over, and burying myself to the hilt."
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