[WARNING! Mild Mature Content ahead!]
===🖤===
Fuck. Me.
Liora's words struck like a match to dry kindling, setting off a wildfire of desire that roared through both Lyander and his wolf.
A shudder racked his wolf's powerful frame, not from fear or chill—but from sheer, blistering need.
Her hands followed next, small but firm, gliding deliberately over his body in slow, claiming strokes. She began with his shoulders, smoothing her fingers over thick cords of muscle, then continued down his back—her touch steady, reverent, and emboldened by curiosity.
Each sweep sent his muscles flexing beneath her hands, drawing tight with anticipation, then easing as she passed, like waves responding to the moon's pull.
It felt like heaven. No—better. His wolf nearly rumbled with pleasure, the sound deep in his chest like a pleased purr held back by pride.
She didn't rush.
