Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

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.

he drops his hands, and his eyes are all dark and hot and intense again, and

"Are you sure?"

think

the cloth on the ground, then grabs another out of the cabinet and walks to the sink

to close my legs now? Or still stand here with them awkwardly spread out? Do I

so I’m not entirely certain how to pull

Caine

I guess my awkward

hold onto the edge of it. He nudges my feet further

time, I vow silently to actually pay attention to what’s happening and maybe try to control the arcana instead of getting

he murmurs, and I do, until my forehead touches the 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.

knowing I’m already way beyond a couple brushes against

with want, and Caine slides the cloth down my back, over my ass, and down my right thigh. Then he pushes against the back of

of my thigh, lifting it with careful pressure. The cool countertop meets my knee as he positions me, opening me up in a way so debauched I’m... not entirely

Hot? Yes.

Awkward? Also yes.

of me clenches hard, though, greedily accepting

exposed and vulnerable. The position is precarious and I still have no idea what he’s doing, leaving me

standing there awkwardly after he backed

my thigh upward in a torturously slow path,

worse after all.

Way better.

inch the cloth travels higher sends ripples of anticipation through my body,

are you doing?" The question slips out breathless, my lip caught between my teeth

when you have your leg

my panties are still on, though... I’m not sure if it’s

"Worshipping," Caine says quietly.

me like... I don’t