6. Wolfe
WOLFE
T he morning light pours through my windows as I gaze at the woman in my bed, her leg thrown over mine, possessive even in sleep.
Ash's dark hair spills across my pillow, her face peaceful, one small hand resting on my chest directly over my heart.
I've been awake for ten minutes, just watching her—memorizing the fullness of her lips, the way her eyelashes fan against her cheeks. I revel in the weight and warmth of her body curled against mine, as though she belongs here.
After the workshop, I brought her to my bedroom. She'd pulled me eagerly to the bed, and we'd made love again. Slower this time, learning each other's bodies with caressing hands and hungry mouths. She'd worshipped my scars with her lips and tongue until I nearly wept with need.
This is how it begins…the unraveling…the freefall.
She stirs, stretching like a contented cat before her eyes flutter open. For one heart-stopping moment, I fear I'll see regret dawn in those big brown eyes.
Instead, she smiles—a sleepy, intimate curve of her lips that makes my chest ache.
"Good morning," she murmurs, voice husky.
"Morning." I can't help but touch her, tracing my fingertips along her bare shoulder. "Sleep well?"
"Mmm, eventually." Her smile turns wicked as she presses closer. "Someone kept me up half the night."
I chuckle. "Are you complaining?"
"Nope." She props herself up on one elbow, studying my face. I realize with a jolt that I'm not wearing my mask…haven't worn it since she found me in the workshop. "How are you feeling?"
How am I feeling? Terrified. Exhilarated. Vulnerable in ways that have nothing to do with my physical scars.
"I'm feeling..." I search for the right words. "Like I've stepped off a cliff and I'm waiting to see if I'll fly or crash."
She nods, understanding in her eyes. "Me too."
Once again, her honesty disarms me, as it has from the beginning. This woman doesn't play games or hide behind social niceties. She sees, and she speaks her mind.
"Rain’s stopped and the sun’s finally out. We should get some photos," I say abruptly.
Her eyebrows rise. "You’re ready?"
"It's why you're here." I sit up, the sheet pooling around my waist. "Professionally speaking."
She studies me.
"I trust you," I add, surprising myself with the truth of it.
She smiles, then nods. Her hand slides over my scarred shoulder. “You know you don’t have to prove anything to me, Wolfe.”
I smile and trace her jaw, thrilling at her shiver. “I know that now.”
We dress and have breakfast with the others, who politely pretend not to notice the change between us. But I know better…Ghost's knowing smirk is the only acknowledgment of whatever this might be between Ash and I.
The storm has left behind a damp, yet crisp autumn day. While Ash retrieves her equipment, I walk the grounds with Lee, assessing the damage.
"Bridge'll be fixed soon," he informs me, inspecting a fallen tree branch. "Road crew's already working on it."
A complicated mix of emotions churns in my gut at this news…relief that the manor can return to normal operations, disappointment that Ash's enforced stay is ending, and fear of what happens next.
When I return to the house, Ash is waiting in the entrance hall, camera in hand. She's dressed in jeans and a light sweater, hair pulled back, every inch of her looking delicious.
“Where do you want to start?” she asks.
“The library,” I decide. “It has the best natural light.”
She grins. “Excellent choice.”
* * *
For the next hour, I submit to her direction, posing among the books, beside the massive fireplace, at the antique writing desk. I wear my mask throughout, and she doesn't ask me to remove it.
Instead, she works with the shadows it creates, finding angles that are dramatic without being exploitative.
"These are going to be incredible," she says, reviewing shots on her display. "You're a natural."
I snort. "Hardly. I'm just good at playing a character." I move to the window, gazing out at the mountains beyond. “The Beast, the recluse, the scarred veteran—all to keep the world at bay.”
She steps closer, not touching me but near enough that I can feel her warmth. "And what about last night? Was that you playing a character, too?"
"No." I turn to face her. "That was more real than anything I could imagine.”
Her eyes soften. "Then for one photo, let me capture the real Wolfe Marsden underneath the mask."
My heart pounds against my chest.
“Only for me,” she says quickly. “Something I can keep.”
I search her face, not knowing what I’m expecting to fine. But when all I see is sincerity, I slowly reach up and remove the mask, setting it on the windowsill beside me.
Sunlight streams across my scars, hiding nothing.
“For you,” I say, my voice barely audible.
She raises her camera, but doesn't immediately take the shot. "Magnificent," she whispers. "Just look at me."
I do, letting her see everything—not just the physical scars, but the vulnerability beneath, and the way she makes me feel like myself for the first time in years.
The shutter clicks once.
She lowers the camera, her eyes bright. "Thank you."
Before I can respond, she crosses the distance between us and kisses me, soft and sweet. My arms wrap around her, pulling her tight against me.
When we break apart, she's smiling seductively. "I think we need to clean up before lunch. Care to join me in the shower?"
Her playful tone goes straight to my groin. I take her hand, leading her through the manor to my bedroom.
The ensuite is one of the few rooms I've completely modernized with a massive walk-in shower and multiple spraying heads.
I undress her slowly, kissing newly exposed skin as each garment falls away. She follows suit, her hands moving confidently over my body, unafraid of the scarred terrain of my flesh.
Under the hot spray, we wash each other, learning curves and angles in the clear light of day. There's no hiding here. Not my scars or the way my body responds to her touch.
When she sinks to her knees before me, looking up through wet lashes, I nearly lose my mind.
"Ash—"
"Shhh." She wraps her hand around my cock, already achingly hard. "Let me take care of you."
She nuzzles the base first, her other hand sliding over my balls, and I hiss. Her tongue drags a slow, wet stripe up my length, and my head falls back against the wall. "Fuck."
"Later," she purrs, swirling her tongue around the tip. "Right now, I’m busy."
I shudder, then her mouth closes over me, hot and greedy, and my knees almost buckle. She hums, the vibration shooting straight to my spine, her hands gripping my ass to steady me.
Christ, almighty.
"You’re an angel," I rasp, thrusting helplessly into the slick heat of her heavenly mouth. "A goddamn angel..."
She moans around me, her eyes locking on mine, bold and hungry , and I can’t breathe. Water sluices down her back, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders like ink. She picks up the pace, one hand working the base of my cock, the other holding onto my thigh.
My hips jerk, and she takes me deeper, throat fluttering. The sight is obscene. Captivating . I fist her hair, and she gasps, gripping me harder.
"Like that?" she pants, pulling off just to lick the swollen, tender head. "You want me to suck this aching, needy cock even more?"
"Yes." I croak.
She grins, wicked and wild, looking up at me as she rubs my entire length over her face and her sweet lips. Then she swallows me down again.
“ Mother of …” And I’m gone.
Every muscle locks. “Ash!” I cry, suddenly pumping into her throat, fingers tightening in her hair and scrabbling at the tile. She drinks me down like she’s obsessed, milking every pulse until I’m trembling and spent.
I finally manage to pull her up and spin her around, pressing my back against the tile and her back to my chest. I slide a hand over her throat, forcing her head back.
"My turn to make you come, sexy," I growl into her ear, moving my other hand to slip between her wet folds. I groan. "You’re all swollen. Did sucking my cock make your pussy throb?"
“God, yes,” she moans, as I rub her tender flesh.
I bite down on her neck, then lick the spot. She arches her back, forcing her breasts high. I grab one and tease her nipple, while my other hand circles her clit.
She trembles under my touch. "That feels so good, Wolfe," she pants.
“Good, sweetheart. Cause I want you coming all over my hand.” I murmur against her neck, working that sweet bundle of nerves.
Water cascades over us, steam rising around our bodies as Ash moans and writhes under my fingers.
"You’re beautiful," I say, my hand caressing her breasts, her belly, her hips, as her back bows.
She makes a desperate sound, then she’s shattering with my name on her lips.
I slow my movements as she convulses against me, flexing and holding onto me and the wall.
Both of us are breathing heavily as the water continues to rain down. I've never felt so exposed and so complete.
"I'm falling in love with you," I confess against her wet hair.
She turns in my arms, facing me with those big brown eyes. "I think I’ve already fallen."
I’m…she’s….really?
I kiss her then, gathering her in my arms as we let the water consume us.
We finish showering, and dry each other with fluffy towels before dressing.
As we head downstairs, Ghost meets us in the hallway.
“Road crew just called,” he announces. “They got the bridge fixed early.”
I feel Ash stiffen beside me. "That's...good news," she says.
An awkward quiet falls. Ghost mumbles something about checking the west wing and disappears.
“I’ll have to get with the team to prepare for tomorrow’s reopening.”
She nods. “And I should probably go pack my things. Willa will be expecting me.”
“So,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even. “You're leaving.”
“I have to go visit with Willa,” she says. “But Wolfe…” She takes my hand, her fingers entwining with mine. “This isn't goodbye.”
I want to believe her. God help me, I do.
"I need to finish my magazine piece," she continues. "But I'm not leaving Deepwood Mountain. Not until we figure out what this is between us."
Hope, fragile and dangerous, unfurls in my chest.
Suddenly, Howie bounds up the stairs, oblivious to the situation. "Bridge is clear! And the power's back on throughout the manor! Oh, and Lee says lunch is ready whenever you two lovebirds are hungry."
He disappears as quickly as he appeared, leaving us staring at each other.
"Lovebirds?" I raise an eyebrow.
A smile tugs at Ash's lips. "Apparently we're not as subtle as we thought."
"I've never been accused of subtlety," I admit.
She laughs, the sound warming me from within. "Me neither."
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. "Visit with Willa and her family. Finish your piece. Then come back to me."
"Is that a request or a command, Beast?" she teases, her eyes sparkling.
"Both," I growl, pulling her closer. "Definitely both."