Gifted

Chapter Eleven - Hunter

Sage offered to help clear away the dishes. But domestic goddess was not what I pictured for her. Declining politely, we settled in the lounge, well when I say lounge it's more like a library of sorts – not that I came in here to read. But I wanted her to think there's more to me than just the womanising prick that I'm sure she's heard about, in graphic detail no doubt.

Dinner had gone well, I thought. She'd relaxed, and I'd enjoyed listening to her talk. And every time she smiled my stomach clenched and my balls tightened. It was surreal—that's for sure.

She would however avoid some questions, cleverly—by answering my question with a question.

But she seemed open and honest about others. Especially sharing about her family. And when she mentioned losing her family so young, the ache in my chest was overwhelming. I had to clamp myself to the chair, curbing the urge to get up and pull her against me.

What the—!?

Never in all my life had that happened. Whenever a woman usually shared anything personal about themselves. I was outta there faster than Usain Bolt on speed.

Offering her a drink, she shook her head, giving me that shy smile that prompted the same reaction every single time. I couldn't do this for much longer. This getting to know her and not touch her was killing me... albeit slowly.

But who says I couldn't touch?

You did mate, remember?

My wolf stirred, grumbling.

Sage walked around the books gently running her fingers over each leather-bound edge.

Jesus Christ. I wanted her hand on me, touching me. Who the fuck was I kidding, there was no way I couldn't not touch her.

Ignoring the fact that I was about to pour myself a drink. I put the glass down and three long strides I was standing behind her as her head tilted to read the book spine title .

Standing this close her scent was all over me, making my wolf sit up and sniff the air too. He paced restless. The awareness of her coated my skin with a prickle of goosebumps. I shivered, still not understanding the effect she had on me. The control almost, tugging at me, telling me to reach out and touch her.

She pivoted, her eyes wide as she backed up slightly, now pressed flat against the bookcase. She opened her mouth to speak but then it snapped shut, before slowly letting her eyes fall to my mouth and her pink tongue swiped over her full pouty bottom lip.

I couldn't stop. I moved closer into her personal space and leant down, pressing my lips to hers.

Shittin' hell!

Her lips were perfect. Warm, soft with the subtle taste of what we'd just eaten tickling my taste-buds.

I was gentle at first, teasing her mouth open. She responded, allowing me to become more forceful. Starved, I increased the pressure on her soft lips, possessive almost, as my tongue searched out hers, stroking, sucking, tasting.

I wanted to taste all of her.

She tasted fucking delicious.

My hands found their way to her waist as her hands snaked either side of my arms, burning as they moved upwards. The soft indent under my fingers allowed me to dig into her slightly, as I pulled her closer.

She would've been able to feel my dick pressed against her, pretty hard to miss and I knew I should have stopped.

I didn't want to.