The Love of a Werewolf
It wasn’t until he was alone in bed, under the blanket with the scent of lavender surrounding him that he realized what the weird yearning in his stomach was.
He wanted to be back in Jackson’s room. He was afraid, at the time, but it was the good kind of fear. The kind of fear he’d felt the first time he’d jumped from a tree branch into the river below. He wanted random, gentle physical affection. The kind of touches he hadn’t felt since… His stomach flipped when he remembered some of the physical ‘affection’ he’d gotten once he was older.
If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. Kia enjoys it, so she does it. She’s not forced to do it.
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