[She coaxes him in, invites him-- and god is she inviting, legs parted, the whisper of his name shaped around blush-red lips. She inspires something in him that goes beyond want, a visceral need to claim her, to call her his, a possessiveness he doesn't usually feel in a place like this.
He wants to tease her more, to work her up until she loses all semblance of control, but the alpha in him needs more, a desire so deep he can barely keep himself from pouncing on her.
Closing the space between them again, he traces the line of her collarbone, her shoulder, his hand trailing down to her breast. Intoxicated by the scent of her, by his own arousal, he drags himself against her as he leans close enough to kiss her. He doesn't, though, not just yet; instead he whispers against her lips,] ... I want you more than I can stand.
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He wants to tease her more, to work her up until she loses all semblance of control, but the alpha in him needs more, a desire so deep he can barely keep himself from pouncing on her.
Closing the space between them again, he traces the line of her collarbone, her shoulder, his hand trailing down to her breast. Intoxicated by the scent of her, by his own arousal, he drags himself against her as he leans close enough to kiss her. He doesn't, though, not just yet; instead he whispers against her lips,] ... I want you more than I can stand.