MATED TO THE CURSED LYCAN KING
But he wasn’t having that.
Lazaro’s hand tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his piercing gaze. His thumb dragged over my lower lip, testing, teasing. My breathing turned shallow as his mouth hovered dangerously close to mine, the air between us thick with something I couldn’t define—something dark, dangerous, and far too tempting.
"Tell me, Simone," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my skin, "do you like being chased? Or do you just like being caught?"
I shivered. He could sense it, feel the way my body responded even when my mind screamed at me to resist. He leaned in, and before I could stop myself, my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as if he were the only
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