His hips tilted again, driving into me, and a frustrated moan tore from me. There were too many clothes, too many layers stopping him from entering me. I wanted to draw him closer, deeper, anything to get him inside me.

His lips tore away and then my shirt was up, and his hot mouth was on my breast. He sucked my nipple, rolling that taut bud between his teeth and tongue, and a rush of lust shot to my core, making me so wet.

“Your scent, fuck, your scent is driving me mad.” He inhaled deeply and kept ravishing my tit as he pressed me harder against the wall until the sheer force was keeping me up.

His other hand dove down, and the buzz of my zipper sounded before his hand dipped into my pants seeking out my slick folds. With a swift swipe of my panties, his fingers were on me—skin to skin—and then his finger was sliding into me as another possessive growl vibrated from his throat.

My hands traveled along the breadth of his shoulders and down over the hard ridges and planes of his back. I wanted to crawl up his chest and settle myself on top of him until he buried his length inside me.

“Fire Wolf!” I cried out when his finger pumped into me boldly. Relentlessly.

Fucking hell. The wave began to build. So fast. So easily. His scent. His touch. His lust. Just the feel of him. It was all barreling into me as he stuffed another finger inside me as the rough pad of his thumb found my clit.

He rocked his fingers in and out as his mouth moved from my breast to my lips to my neck. The man was owning me, commanding me, and I wanted nothing more than to surrender to this sweet torture.

“Come now,” he growled. “Come with my fingers inside you.” He rubbed harder, faster, and fuck me but—

An orgasm exploded through me. I screamed as it ripped me apart, and the crash of it made my body clamp a hold of his fingers so strongly that I felt every hard ridge of those digits.

A rumble of pure male satisfaction tore from him. He let me ride his fingers, pumping and thrusting as his thumb refused to stop its torture on my clit.

My vision swam dark. The waves kept going. It was torture, sweet torture, and it went on and on as the hunter growled in pleasure.

My body turned to liquid when the waves finally dispersed. I slumped against him, panting, with his fingers still buried deep inside me as my legs clenched his waist.

“What—” But I couldn’t say anything further, couldn’t form any words. I was wrecked. Completely wrecked. My lips felt swollen and bruised when his mouth found mine again. He gripped me harder, grinding against me more as his fingers slowly withdrew. They slipped out easily, my sex so wet that my panties were soaking when he flicked them back into place.

He raised his hand and brought his fingers to his nose. Golden light flashed in his eyes when he inhaled, then he placed his fingers in his mouth, tasting me.

I blinked. The aftereffects from that earth-shattering climax still gripped me.

He found my mouth once more and kissed me fully, savagely. It was pure possession. Domination. And I could taste my sex on his lips before he finally pulled back as triumph shone in his gaze.

“I made you come,” he whispered, his words heavy with pride.

“Yes,” I breathed. He seemed immensely satisfied.

A wolf whistle pierced my mind, cutting through my hazy thoughts. Then came the sound of kids laughing, and I realized my pants were unzipped, my legs were still locked around the hunter, and I had a just-been-fucked look on my face.

It was enough of a reality check to penetrate the fog that had woven around me. I jerked my head back, as a ferocious snarl came from the Fire Wolf. His gaze tore to the alleyway, vicious rumbles coming from his throat as he used his body to shield me. His eyes locked onto the source of that whistle.

A group of teenage boys were standing on the sidewalk, all of them jeering in our direction. A couple of them made rude gestures, one pretending to pump his cock while the other nodded and made a movement like he was grabbing tits.

The Fire Wolf snarled, the sound so loud and visceral that it was enough of a warning for the group of boys to skitter off, their leers turning into snickers, then uneasy stares as they made a beeline for the street corner.

I took a breath and then another, as my core throbbed with the aftershocks of what we’d done. I quickly zipped up my pants and untangled my legs from around him, but the hunter held me firmly, refusing to release his grip.

I ran a hand through my hair, barely able to work my arm free, since the hunter still had me pinned so tightly against him. His hard body caged me in as my mind began working and my mouth dropped open.

“What the fuck was that?” I took a deep breath when his gaze cut to mine. “Why did you kiss me? Why did you want me? What are you—” I didn’t know how to finish. I didn’t know how to explain this, any of this, even though it felt so fucking right to be held in his arms.

His eyes flashed again, that golden glow lighting the fire behind his irises. Ragged breaths lifted his chest as he shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts.

The words he’d uttered before hauling me up his chest flashed through my mind. “You’re not with Carlos anymore. You should be with me.”

My lips parted. He’d said that, actually said that.

The Fire Wolf took a step back and placed me on my feet. I staggered, still limp from that soul-wrenching climax, but I managed to stay upright.

His nostrils flared, and I could only imagine the scent that was rolling off me as my full-blown witch aroma swirled with the heavy aftermath of my desire.

The hunter ran a hand over his face as he inhaled slowly and deeply again and again, as if trying to catch his breath while also soaking up every drop of my desire.

When another moment passed, he met my questioning gaze. Even though he stood a few feet away, his presence was like a looming shadow of menace and lust. He was tenting. Bad. That thick length that I’d gotten an eyeful of after the warlock attack was straining against his pants and, fucking hell, I wanted to reach for it so badly.

“Put your cloaking spell back on,” he snapped, still panting despite his attempts to calm his breathing. “It didn’t work. I still feel—” He shook his head, running his hand over his face again. “I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling, but your scent—your true scent—it does something to me.”

No shit? That was the understatement of the year.

I quickly called upon my magic and activated the spell, anything to stop this insanity that had been born between us.

The familiar feeling of my cloak settled on my shoulders and then drifted around my frame, like a long-time friend who’d worn out their welcome but you couldn’t kick out.

The hunter’s eyes flashed again—that golden glow behind the crimson flames still there—just as my true scent disappeared.

My eyes widened as that honeyed glow suddenly registered. It was his wolf trying to push his demon powers to the side.

All of a sudden, everything clicked. It all made complete sense.

The hunter’s wolf was causing the feeling he kept referencing, because his wolf was attracted to me—apparently, really attracted. Enough to mean that the Fire Wolf couldn’t maintain his control.

And that only happened to a werewolf if his wolf had found . . .

Holy balls.

Of course, I’d heard stories in the community about how male wolves reacted when they met their mate, or at least, who their wolf decided was their mate. Acting insane and irrational was top of the list as the male began courting the female, wanting to fuck her endlessly, and fighting any male who came near her. And that lasted until the female accepted or rejected the male who wanted to claim her.

My jaw dropped because that was exactly what had just happened.