His breath fanned her lips and sent a shiver down her spine, pushing buttons she didn't know she had. And in response, her hand skimmed down his chest, then her fingers hooked in the waistband of his jeans. Her knuckles rocked against the hard muscle of his abdomen, asking, seeking, inviting.

"No masks," she agreed, and lifted her head to brush her mouth against his. "Do you want to go for a ride, wolf?" Yes, she wanted to hear that he wanted her, but it wasn't a girlish plea. It was a full-throated womanly offer from a queen. She looked like herself because she was herself--he'd invited her to be.