I squirm a little at the thought, still flushed and restless, until the hand on my back seizes a lock of my hair and tugs. Hard. I gasp and pull away to face him. “What was that for?” “Stay still.” “Why?” I jerk my head toward Pennelope, who moans in time with the werewolf. “She isn’t staying still.” His fingers wrap more firmly around my hair, and he pulls harder, tilting my face upward and baring my throat. His eyes glint like shards of glass as he holds my gaze. “Exactly.” When I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can put his arrogance, he flexes his hips against me, and I nearly
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