Snarl thrust deeply into Hazel’s tight, wet heat and didn’t bother to stifle his moan. Being inside her was the kind of heaven he’d never thought he’d be lucky enough to experience. She fit him like a glove, silken inner walls gripping his cock as she rode him. For a moment, he just watched her, committing every little expression to memory. She was so expressive, every ounce of pleasure showing in her dark eyes and across her flushed face.

He’d done that. Made her shiver and moan in his arms, those sexy little sounds imprinted on his soul forever. Each stroke of his hands over her skin brought a new reaction and he lapped them up, needing to bring her to ecstasy over and over again. She was like a drug—his perfect addiction and one he never wanted to be free of.

A sensual temptation he would never let go.

“Scream for me, witch,” he ordered, his thrusts harder, faster now . She loved when he says witch and not kitten. “I want to watch your face as you come. Love to see that.”

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