Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 57: Grace: I’ll Ruin You For Anyone Else

No way.

Even if he tells me to, I really can’t do it.

I keep my face turned away, staring at the faded flower pattern of the comforter. My pulse has spiked to the stratosphere, but I’m determined not to look at his face. If I do, I’ll be lost, dropping so far into the sinful depths of hell, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to return.

I’m not ready.

"Grace." His voice drops to a silken murmur near my ear.

I squeeze my eyes shut. "Don’t."

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, warm lips press against my cheek, the contact feather-light and devastatingly sweet. My breath catches as he traces a lazy path across my skin, unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world to map every contour of my face.

"Look at me," he repeats, his breath hot against my temple.

I shake my head, the movement barely perceptible. His answering chuckle vibrates through my bones.

"Stubborn," he whispers, the word not an accusation but something like praise. My hips undulate without permission, and he rocks forward in response.

I’m putty.

His mouth travels down to my ear, teeth grazing the sensitive shell before his tongue traces the delicate curve. A traitorous shiver wracks through me, and my fingers curl into the hard planes of his chest.

"I can hear your heartbeat, Grace." His lips brush against my ear with each syllable. "It beats for me."

"It’s supposed to beat," I choke out, ruining my attempt at seeming flippant and unaffected.

The wet heat of his tongue dips into the hollow beneath my earlobe, and a soft gasp escapes me before I can trap it behind my teeth. His satisfied hum tells me he caught the sound.

"Your body knows, Grace."

too small, too hot. My chest rises and falls with rapid breaths,

I manage to say, my voice strained. The sound of

I’d rather make

and I suck in a swift

"Yeah. Just like

Asshole.

the column of my throat, pausing at the frantic pulse point beneath my jaw. He inhales deeply, and the sound is so animal, so wolf, that another shudder ripples

This man kills without hesitation. He tore through a pack like they

his touch as if the Goddess herself had handed me to him, wrapped in a pretty red

movement pressing his hips more firmly against mine. The hard ridge of him strains against denim, and heat pools low in my belly. His free hand slides up my bare side, palm rough

thumb slips under the tight band of my bra and traces the underside of my breast, a preview of his ill intentions. "And I’ve imagined it every

in shock. He could have

wins, because the admission drags my gaze to his face at last. His eyes burn into mine, pupils blown wide

you are," he murmurs, satisfaction evident in the curve of his lips. "I was beginning to think you’d never look

in the magnetic pull of his gaze as his whole hand finally sneaks up under my bra to cup my breast fully, his thumb brushing across the sensitive peak. My back arches involuntarily, pushing into

beautiful," he breathes. "So responsive.

my neck, tilting my face toward his. Time suspends as he

along my nerves, leaving them sparking

going to taste you now, Grace," he says, his voice a low rumble that I feel more than hear. "And after this, nothing will

words keep wrecking

contrast to the predatory hunger in his eyes. Soft.

him, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. My indecision lasts only seconds before his tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry. When I yield—God help me, I

—the kiss transforms.

replaces gentleness. His tongue slides against mine, claiming my mouth with the same dominance he wields over everything else. His hand leaves my jaw to slide into my hair, fingers tightening as he holds me

against his chest before sliding up to grip his shoulders, anchoring myself against

shoving his hips against my damp heat, grinding with deliberate pressure; a moan tears out of me, only to be swallowed as he kisses me harder, deeper, until I’m dizzy with want and ready to beg