Page 19 of If The Shoe Fits
“Neither do I,” he growls, his lips trailing up my neck, leaving a searing heat in their wake. “But I have to kiss you.”
His golden eyes burn into mine for half a second before his lips claim mine in a kiss that is as fiery and demanding as the man himself.
Every nerve in my body lights up at once, and for a moment, all I can do is cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him.
But as quickly as it starts, reality crashes back down.
My hands press against his chest, though not with much force.
“Wait,” I breathed, my lips tingling. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he murmured, his voice still rough as his lips hovered just over mine. “But I know one thing for certain.”
“What’s that?” I manage, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.
“I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”
I moan as his lips seal over mine.
I can’t believe this is happening. Wulfredo Tremayne, the hottest dang Werewolf in all of Castor’s Corner, is kissing me like his life depends on it.
And I am letting him.
“Wait a second,” I moan, pushing against his immovable chest.
“What is it, Beautiful? You taste so good. I’ll stop if you want me to, but I have been dying to get my hands on you since the first moment I saw you,” he says.
And that’s when I know something is wrong.
MY heart is pounding, and more than anything I do not want him to stop. But I must get to the bottom of this.
Oh my Goddess.
What if my powers did something to him?
“Principal Tremayne, we need to talk.”
chapter eight
Wulfy looks at me like I’m about to be his next favorite chew toy. His eyes are glittering gold with his beast, and the steady rumble in his chest is doing filthy things to my imagination, not to mention ruining my panties.
“Talk? Why talk when we can do other things?” he says and licks a trail from my chest to my chin.
“What? No, no. Really, we must talk. You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, yes, I do. I’ve been wanting to do this for months now,” he growls.
“No, you really haven’t! You don’t like me. Good gravy, you don’t even look at me when we’re in the same place!” I shout and try to get some space between us.
But really, he’s more octopus than Wolf. His big hands caress my body over my clothes, and I can’t help but react.
“Now I know that’s a lie. Honey, I can’t stop looking at you. Sexy, beautiful little Witch. Dying for you,” he growls.
“Oh my Goddess,” I moan as he kisses me deeper, only stopping to sniff my neck.
“Tell me, Sweet, are you overcome with passion, too? I mean, why are you here in my office right now?” he asks.
He presses his mouth to mine, tongue delving between my lips, kissing me like he can’t help himself. I try to stop kissing him back, really, I do.
