Dravina POV

Malrik’s hands roamed over me firm, purposeful tracing me like a map of something sacred.

He kneaded my flesh, teased, then one hand slid lower, seeking, exploring with a deliberate urgency.

A soft gasp escaped me when his fingers brushed that cluster of nerves, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver straight through my spine. A moan slipped out before I could swallow it; his wolf grunted in approval.

“Not wet enough,” he rasped, voice swollen with need. I almost laughed ...