MALCOLM
F*ck.
Moonlight washes over Gwen's lithe body, casting an almost heavenly glow about her.
I wouldn't doubt for one minute the glow around her head is a halo, nor would I doubt the intensity the thought provokes. I feel like going on my knees before her and laying silent prayers at her feet. A prayer for my damned soul. And a prayer for the lurid amount of lust raging through me... Surely it couldn't be normal?
The top comes off completely, and her perky breasts spring free. My mouth waters, and I see the dusky nipples turn to hard points. F*ck. I am going to come just looking at them. My hands itch to take them in my hands, in my mouth. Between my cock.
Eyes unable to leave her breasts, I give another warning growl. "You're not thinking straight."
My wolf rages at me, prowling the edges of my mind. It wants out. Wants to mark her.
And gods, so do I.