He smells of lavender and honeydew. He tastes like it too.

Kallias held tightly onto my hair, gathering a good amount of strands and gripping them into a fist. My eyes were pinned on his middle and his middle alone. But even when I wasn’t looking up at him, I could paint a vivid picture of his delighted face, hear his delicious moans, and envision his wolf going wild.

It was an insane thing to do in the middle of the street—technically beside the cobblestoned street—and in the midst of the vast snow and in the middle of the night.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and opened my...