He opened his mouth to broach the dreaded subject of the final battle, when she leaned in again and kissed him, thrusting her hot little tongue between his lips.
She was insatiable, his wench.
And so was he. He was still hard inside her, their fluids creating the most delicious slide of intimate flesh at the slightest movement.
She pulled away only to suck a path down his neck, her hips undulating instinctively against his, creating a subtle yet mind-numbing friction as her core clenched around his rod.
It was difficult to believe she’d been a virgin just last night.
Wasit only last night?
“It’s because I was made to claim you like this,” she murmured huskily against his sweat-slicked skin, making Wolfe realize that he’d spoken aloud.
“Talk later. It’smyturn.”
Wolfe shook slightly with barely suppressed laughter.
The little assassin seemed set on getting her turn, whatever that meant. He only knew that his role was to let her have her way with him.
And so he did.
He leaned back on his elbows and regarded her slumberously.
“Take it then,” he invited in a low rumble. “Take me if you can.”
Her eyes blazed bright at the challenge, swirling with…ideas.
Wolfe was slightly worried about what he might have unleashed. But it was too late to take it back.
And in any case, he didn’t want to. Verily, he couldn’t wait to see what she’d do.
What he didn’t anticipate, however, was that she pulled entirely off of him, leaving his tortured, throbbing stalk naked in the chilly night, deprived of her heat and exquisite pressure.
He immediately tried to pull her back. Her leaving his body wasn’t what he had in mind.
She pushed against his chest to keep him at bay, refusing to be gathered in his arms. She scooted until she knelt over him, his thighs between her legs, their bodies not touching.
“Take off your tunic,” she commanded.
“Take off yours,” he returned.
She crossed her arms mutinously over her chest.
“I’m the boss here. I want you bare first. It’s my turn.”
The little elf was fixated with turns, Wolfe had already gathered. It seemed to fit her personality.
She operated on certain principles, he understood. They were not always logical to the average person, but they were logical to her. And she never veered from them.
He decided to play her game and reached back to grab a fistful of fabric, pulling his shirt off in one smooth motion.
She licked her lips at the sight of his naked torso like a she-lion wetting her chops before a most anticipated meal.
“Now the trousers,” she instructed, grabbing the material and pulling as she went.
All he had to do was lift his hips to accommodate her as she wrestled his boots off and then the rest of his clothes.
She licked her lips again, her pupils completely eclipsing her irises by now.