Ramsey
The moment I saw Lyla standing at the entrance of the funeral hall that morning, it had taken every ounce of self-control not to reach for her and for once… I was grateful for the bourgeois nature of the ceremonial Lycan Leader attire I was wearing as it helped to cover my erection.
The frightened, wide-eyed girl from four years ago had transformed into a woman with perky but full presses that were outlined on the mourning dress she had on. Her once narrow hips had widened, framing a perfect butt, that made me envision riding her from back and slapping those cheeks.
And gods… her neck! Slender, graceful…reminded me of the way she had arched it; the day I had marked her in the garden. Lax, was practically howling at the sight of her, urging me to claim what was rightfully ours – to hold her, kiss her and mark her as our mate once more.
