Faelan's heart raced, his inner wolf stirring as the warm swell of Padma's chest inflamed him with the promise of newness, with the thrill of being desired. He'd never been wanted just for the sake of it, had never been enjoyed because of who he was, only because he was there and willing. This was so different, she was so different, and he wanted desperately to hang on. Sliding his hands from her shoulders, they landed at her waist, and he stroked her back, shivering at the feeling of her arms around him, wishing so badly that he could stay in them, but with every kiss, every quiet moan and sigh and touch, he felt the wolf more and more acutely.
He couldn't do this. He couldn't let her go on thinking he was the person she believed him to be when he wasn't worthy of her at all. He was a liar, just as Harry had accused him of being so many months ago, and the only thing that hurt worse than finally admitting it was knowing that he could hurt Padma too.
Panting with need and regret, Faelan broke away from Padma's kisses, dropping his head before she could claim his mouth again. "Padma." Summoning all his resolve, he pushed her back, holding her by the shoulders so that she would have no choice but to stop kissing him. "Padma, you need to stop. You...get off of me. Please."