“You need to warm up so we can be on our way. We aren’t stopping again,” he growls. “And I need to scent you again before we leave. You reek.” He can say those words with as much volition as he wants, but it doesn’t change the way that he buries his nose into the crook of my neck like he can’t get enough of the way I smell. I wriggle in his arms, but he leaves no slack. I don’t want him to know how his hot tongue running up my throat puts a deep ache in my core.
