With every word from her lovely lips, Areo decided on strangulation. Was she so wrapped up in the possibilities that she didn’t see what was right in front of her freckled face? He’d saved her because he didn’t want the wolves to be in chaos, but he sure as he wasn’t going to lead them himself. If Leighton Bennington wanted the job, Caseareo was more than happy to let her have it. And when she declared that she didn’t care why, the older wolf snorted aloud then whispered, “Liar.” Oh, but she was a beautiful liar.
Areo was aware of the space between them, or what was left of it and he could feel their animals beginning to mingle. Sex and blood was an aphrodisiac and there was no denying that he was aroused, moreso now than directly after the fight. As Leighton scented at his jaw, the wolf burst forth with a flurry of movement. As tall as Aero was, one hand was able to grasp the waistband of Leighton’s jeans and yank her forward so that his pelvis ground into her own. Caseareo enjoyed the uncomfortable textural friction. His other hand got its wish and nested itself deep in that waterfall of waves where it pulled her face from his own, slowing bending her head backward that her neck was bared.