Alpha Damien Blackthorn slammed his fist on the heavy oak desk, the wood cracking slightly under the force of his raw power. Three days. It had been three fucking days since that brazen little she-wolf had pressed her voluptuous body against his back, kissed him like a desperate whore in heat, and let him finger-fuck her tight, dripping cunt until she came all over his hand. And still, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Her jasmine-and-lavender scent clung to him like a drug. The memory of her heavy, full breasts molding against him, her stiff nipples dragging across his shirt, and the way her slick pussy had clenched...