sable

Trystan moves behind me, and his fingers tease my hair away from one shoulder so he can place a warm kiss on the sensitive area where my neck meets my shoulder. His hands slip around my body and he grabs a fistful of the blanket, gently pulling it away from my naked skin. Cool air rushes in as the blanket pools at my feet.

“My mate. Our mate,” he says reverently, his lips brushing over my shoulder. His palms slide over my stomach, inching toward my hips.

“Little wolf,” Ridge growls into our kiss.

The rumble of his deep voice and the sound of my nickname on his lips...