Cyrus moved down to her legs leaving wet kisses, moving up he bit her inner thigh his fangs urging to come out.
To mark her.
But he held back. Cyrus knew that Nila wasn't ready for it yet. He wanted to take things slow, give her all the time in the world, and wanted to ask her permission. She was sacred to him.
All the werewolves were destined to have a mate and meeting your mate was a once-in-a-million opportunity, but Cyrus didn't care, to him, Nila was his everything, mate or not.
Cyrus settled his head between her legs making Nila gasp, ''What are you doing?''
Sweat had formed all over her forehead, neck and chest, the fireplace illuminating her exotic features, Nila looked like a goddess, the goddess of fire.
