Something shifted in his eyes—deeper, darker. A ripple of power moved through him like the echo of thunder.
Then he purred, voice rough and low and gravel-sweet.
“Yes, little mate. I can’t wait to let you ride me.”
The way he said it—dark and promising, like a whisper of sin wrapped in velvet—sent a wave of heat sliding down my spine. My stomach clenched. My thighs squeezed together under the oversized pajamas that still smelled like him. Like pine and musk and something that felt dangerously close to home.
I barely had time to process the words—run on my back, the casual intimacy of it, the confidence—when Hella shoved forward with a sultry purr of her own.
“I can’t wait too,” she answered for me, slipping past my control in a haze of heat and smugness.
I gasped, clapping a hand ove
