Thorne's hand crawls up my thigh at an agonizingly slow pace, his fingers grazing my skin just enough to leave a trail of heat in their wake. My breath hitches, and I can feel the rising warmth spreading through my body like wildfire.
"Isn't this exactly why we've been drinking that horrible tasting liquid?" he teases, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down my spine. "To get your husband all revved up like this?"
I narrow my eyes at him, though my body betrays me with its growing anticipation. "It's supposed to help synchronize your rut and my heat, Thorne," I say softly, barely able to keep my voice steady.
"Well," he murmurs, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips, "I think I'm in a rut right now."
Before I can respond, he chuckles and effortlessly lifts me until I'm straddling him, my legs wrapped around his waist. I feel his strength beneath me, his hands gripping my hips with just enough pressure to make me feel completely at his mercy.
