Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 188

Chapter 188: Grace: Why Did You Stop?

When Caine pulls away, my first thought is I did something wrong.

But when I look at him, at how hard he still is and how his breathing’s heavy and charged, I realize... I didn’t.

Though I’m still not sure why he stopped.

"Why did you stop?"

Way to sound desperate, Grace.

"You needed me to...?"

The arrogant Lycan in front of me sounds strangely unsure of himself, and I shake my head. "I didn’t."

He draws in a deep breath and rubs his hands over his face, then through his hair. "You should."

"But I don’t."

The place between my legs is wet and aching, water dripping down my thighs, and it’s awkward to still stand here without him... touching me.

I’m not entirely certain what to do, actually.

Caine groans.

"We’re going too far," he warns.

My eyebrows pull together. "I told you, the energy transfer isn’t... much."

It’s there, but it’s nothing like it is when our skin touches.

It’s impossible to completely avoid us touching even then, but they were more like sparks and rushes of energy lasting a second or two, not a constant drain of arcana. And, if I’m being brutally honest—which horny Grace apparently is—it felt really, really fucking good every time his skin would brush against mine.

So right now I’m feeling more than a little lost and kind of abandoned in the middle of what was promising to be an amazingly intimate, stolen moment in the middle of the night, and Caine looks... tortured.

hands, and his eyes are all dark and hot and intense again, and my

"Are you sure?"

I think I am,

then grabs another out of the cabinet and walks to

here with them awkwardly spread out? Do I turn

not really great at being sexy, so I’m not entirely

sink," Caine says, his voice

my awkward stand-like-a-statue

I shakily make my way to the sink and hold onto the edge of it. He nudges my feet further apart with

a little greater now than it was before. Maybe it’s the ambience. But this time, I vow silently to actually pay attention to what’s happening and maybe try to control the arcana instead

mirror over the sink. The cold countertop is like ice against my heated skin, and he runs the cloth over my back again, the

Gently.

I’m already way beyond a couple brushes against

back, over my ass, and down my right thigh. Then he pushes against the back of

hand cups the back of my thigh, lifting it with careful pressure. The cool countertop meets my knee as he positions me, opening me up in

Hot? Yes.

Awkward? Also yes.

of me clenches hard, though, greedily accepting anything he does to me

on the tiptoes of my other foot, feeling exposed and vulnerable. The position is precarious and I still have no idea what he’s doing, leaving me off-kilter and not

standing there

my thigh upward in a torturously

after

Way better.

cloth travels higher sends ripples of

caught between my teeth as I struggle to maintain what little

had when you have your

if it’s a good

"Worshipping," Caine says quietly.

me like... I don’t

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