THE THIRD MATING
LYRA:
He moved to my neck again softly and he looked hungry, his lips brushing quick, making my skin hot.
My body was buzzing, full of want, and I grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging into his shirt, pulling him close.
His hands gripped my waist, pressing where my gown had slipped, and I pushed against him, feeling his hard chest. The mate bond burned inside me, pushing me to take everything he offered.
I stepped back, breathing fast, and ripped his shirt open, buttons flying. My hands slid over his scarred, strong chest, nails scratching hard.