His lips are swollen and wet, and the wolf is behind his eyes as he looks down at me.

I’m breathing fast, and so is he. I’m not sure whether the pounding of my heart is due to the release that crashed over me. Or whether it is nervousness, anticipation, of what might come next.

I want to give him what he just gave me. I want him to come undone.

I pull his face down to mine, and I kiss him. He groans into my mouth, stroking my tongue in the same expert way he moved between my legs. Heat starts to pool again, more so when I realize his hard length is pushing against my thigh through the rough material of his kilt. I hook my ankles around his, melting into his solid body.

“Now, tell me what you want, Princess,” he murmurs against my lips. “Tell me what you want, and I shall give it to you.”

What do I want? I want him. All of him.

I push him gently, so that he is kneeling.

With shaking fingers, I undo the buttons of his shirt. I untuck it from his kilt, then slide it off his big shoulders. His breathing deepens as he watches me. He keeps his hands at his sides, as if waiting for permission to touch me more.

I swallow, and look down at his kilt. “I want you to take it off.”

He cups my cheek and kisses me gently. “Okay.”

He shifts back to unlace and pull off his boots—struggling in the confines of the small space. When it comes to taking off his kilt, he curses again as he tries to maneuver out of it and kicks one of the walls of the tent.

“This isn’t very dignified,” he says. I giggle, and his grin widens. “Give me a second. I fear I shall ruin the mood.”

He ducks out of the tent—letting in a refreshing gust of cool night air through the flap—only to remerge a few seconds later, without any clothes on. My heart catches in my throat as he kneels in front of me again.

I look down at his sculpted torso and strong, muscular arms. How can a male be built this way? I drag my fingers down the ridges of his torso, and he takes a deep, shuddery breath.

I saw him naked once before, in the forest when he shifted from a wolf to a man. I didn’t give myself permission to look openly, then. But I do now.

His length is hard. Thick. His arousal obvious.

My insides clench.

I do not know much about the anatomy of men, but I know this part of him will be inside me. And for that reason, it seems large. Larger than I was expecting. My heart beats a little faster, yet heat pools between my legs, and an ache begins to grow.

My fingers twitch. I start to move my hand lower, but he shifts forward and lays me down on the rugs—enveloping me in his searing body heat.

And how strange it is, to have a naked male on top of me. I run my hands over his shoulders, then trace my fingers down the muscles of his back.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him.

“I knew you thought I was handsome.”

I giggle and his eyes dance with mischief. He kisses me deeply, languidly, his mouth claiming mine and his hand sliding into my hair.

“I want. . .” I murmur against his lips.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “Anything. It is yours.”

“I want. . .” I take a shaky breath, unused to voicing my desires. “I want you to take your pleasure from me.”

He looks down at me, his breath mingling with mine. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He takes a deep breath. “You must promise me that if I do something you don’t like, if you want to stop, you will tell me.”

“Yes.” I know he will not do anything to harm me, and I know I will never want him to stop. I try to fight my blush. “Do you take. . . do you take the herbs?”

“Aye,” he says, smiling. “No chance of making a pup this time.”

I push against his chest, and start to turn around—remembering what I was told about how Wolves like to take their women. Callum gently grabs my arm and pulls me back. “Where are you going?”

“I thought. . . I thought that was how Wolves. . .” My cheeks flame. “I thought that was how you did it.”

He smiles, though I am glad he doesn’t laugh at me. “Sometimes,” he says. “But I want to be face-to-face with you tonight.”

Kissing me softly, he guides himself to my entrance.

He holds my gaze slowly as he pushes. He groans as he fills me.

There’s a pinch of pain, and I tense. He feels impossibly big. I do not think he fits. My heart is beating fast.

He stills, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of my head. He’s breathing hard, his biceps clenched. His expression is strained.

I wonder why he isn’t moving, whether he expects me to do something—but then, as he waits, my body starts to adjust to him. He moves slowly, and the pain transcends into something else. Something unfamiliar. Something I want more of. Pressure, and friction, and the feeling of being completely filled.

“Oh,” I say softly.

My body relaxes, then tenses again in an entirely different way. My breathing becomes steadier, then faster. I grip onto his shoulders, sinking my fingers into his muscle.

As if sensing the change in me, he pushes fully inside me. A growl builds in his throat as I cry out.

His hand slides into my hair, and he claims my mouth with his as he rolls his hips again. Moaning, I open myself fully for him, hooking my hands around his neck and pulling him closer.

He dips his mouth to my throat, where he kisses and sucks and nibbles.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” His voice is strained as he murmurs into my ear. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I slide my hands down to his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. His skin is hot and damp, and I feel the restraint rippling through him.

Even now, he is holding back. Afraid I will break. Afraid he will scare me away.

I grab his face. His jawline is taut and the wolf flickers in his eyes.

“I will not break,” I whisper. “Take what you want from me. I want to give it to you.”

“Rory—” His voice is strained.

“Take it.”

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip—determined to provoke that primal side of him. Determined that he will take what he wants from me, what he needs.

He growls, and he plunges into me. Hard. I cry out.

“Fuck.” He curls his fist into the cushion by my head. “Sorry.”

“Take it,” I growl.

I tilt my hips to take him deeper, desperate for more of him, and slide my hands down his back—urging him further inside.

He groans and I feel his submission. His shoulders relax beneath my fingertips; his expression changes from restrained to hungry. The wolf glows behind his eyes.

“I told you you were a demanding, fearsome creature,” he whispers.

“You also told me you would give me what I want.”

He thrusts into me, hard and deep. Goddess! He groans loudly.

I hook my legs around his waist, curling my ankles around his back, and he takes me deeper still. The change in pressure and friction provokes harsh sounds from the back of my throat. Feral sounds. Sound I did not know I was capable of. I grip onto his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”

Something within him calls to something wild within me. Delicious tension builds as he moves deeper, faster. And I cannot get enough. I kiss his neck. I sink my teeth into his shoulder. I grip him tighter.

Goddess! My head tilts back.

“Look at me, Princess,” murmurs Callum.

I bring my eyes back to his. There is something like awe in his, flickering with the wolf that lingers there. He plunges deep inside me, and it pushes me over the edge. Release surges through me and I come completely undone beneath him. I cry out, gripping tightly onto him as my whole body shudders.

His rhythm becomes feverish. His shoulders tense and his cheeks redden. His face is strained for a moment. Then he groans, long and hard, his muscles spasming beneath my fingers as he spills into me. “Fuck. Aurora. Fuck.”