Zayne
The ride back to my territory was pure torture.
I was surrounded by the scent of her—the sweet, delicate smell of roses was still there, but it was tangled with the acrid tang of her fear and the intoxicating, mouth-watering scent of her arousal.
It was a confusing, maddening combination that bypassed my mind and spoke directly to the wolf inside me.
I forced myself to remain still, to react with nothing but cold control.
But when she tripped, I moved on pure instinct.
I didn’t think; I just reacted, scooping her up and cradling her against my chest.
It felt right. It felt like she belonged there, safe and mine.
I felt her body stiffen, and the scent of her fear spiked, but so did her arousal.
My wolf howled in my head, clawing at my mind, desperate to claim his mate.
I turned toward the house, ignoring Soren’s questioning glance. I carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind me, sealing us away from the world. I could feel her trembling in my arms as I took the stairs two at a time to my room.
I was no longer thinking. I could only feel. I kicked open the bedroom door, and she clung to me, a soft, needy sound escaping her lips that was my undoing. I growled low in my throat in answer and moved into the room. She whimpered as I laid her down on the bed.
“Shhh,” I whispered, trying to reassure her, trying to be the man I wanted to be.
“I’m going to help. I promise.” But I smelled her fear spike again, and the scent was like a knife in my gut.
I didn’t want to hurt her, but our bodies were burning up with the mating heat, and there was no stopping it.
I wanted to be gentle, but as my lips claimed hers and I tasted her for the first time, my control shattered. My wolf took over, and I was lost.
I tore my mouth from hers, only to follow the delicate line of her jaw and neck, kissing and biting.
Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to leave my mark, to claim her as mine.
She writhed beneath me, making little breathy sounds that only spurred my wolf on.
I ran my hands down her sides, mapping the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, the line of her thigh.
She whimpered again, her body arching into my touch, her movements a mixture of fear and need.
Her fear was still there, a sharp, bitter note, but now it was almost drowned by the overwhelming scent of her arousal.
I growled again, and gripping the collar of the worn t-shirt she wore, I ripped the fabric away from her body in one fluid motion.
She gasped, her body trembling, and the sound was a match to the fire raging inside me.
I claimed her mouth again, swallowing her gasp, groaning as I felt her soft skin against mine.
Her hands pressed against my chest, but she didn’t push me away.
My hands went to the button of her jeans, and she lifted her hips, a silent, desperate permission as I pulled them away, followed by her soaked panties.
Then she was bare beneath me, and I couldn’t resist.
I had to taste her. I lowered my head, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed as her hands tangled in my hair, the sting of her fingernails spurring me on.
She tasted of rain and wind and something wild and sweet, something that was uniquely her.
It was unlike anything I had ever known.
I tore at my own clothes, desperate to be inside her, to feel her heat surround me.
I was a wild thing, without thought, driven only by a soul-crushing need to possess her, to make her irrevocably mine.
To cover her in my scent and ensure no other male would ever dare to look at her.
I pressed against her entrance, sliding through her slick folds, coating myself in her wetness.
She whimpered again, her sapphire eyes wide with a terror that was laced with desire, her body trembling against me.
I entered her in one slow, deep thrust, her body stretching around me, her slick heat enveloping me in a perfect, searing grip. I groaned, shuddering with the force of it, and rested my forehead against the pillow beside her head, forcing myself to breathe, to give her a moment.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, and she made a small, soft sound of surrender.
I began to move, slowly at first, doing my best to hold back, to not hurt her.
But then she moved with me, her hips lifting to meet mine, and the last thread of my control snapped.
I plunged into her again and again, my hips snapping against hers with a desperate rhythm.
The sound of skin slapping against skin was a beautiful, primal counterpoint to my grunts and her whimpers.
I grabbed her hips, my grip bruising, as I took her, a desperate, primal act that I was powerless to control. I was lost in the feel of her, the scent of her, the heat of her. It was everything.
I pulled out suddenly, rolling her onto her stomach and plunging back into her wet heat.
She cried out, arching her back as I filled her completely.
I growled and fastened my teeth on the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder, holding her in place as I slammed into her.
Her small cries only spurred me on, my wolf in full, glorious control.
I felt the familiar tension of my release building, and I groaned as her inner muscles fluttered and clenched around me.
I roared as my climax crashed over me, burying myself to the hilt and marking her in the most intimate way possible.
I collapsed on top of her, both of us panting, our bodies slick with sweat.
After a few moments, I rolled off her, pulling her with me and arranging us on our sides, her back tight against my chest.
I gently kissed the mark I’d left on her neck, a smug, possessive smile touching my lips.
She was irrevocably mine, and no one could ever deny it.
She whimpered softly, a sound of pure exhaustion, and I stroked her hip.
“Shhh,” I whispered. “It’s over. Sleep. You are safe.” She didn’t move, and slowly, her breathing settled into a regular rhythm. I lay there in the dark, holding her, surrounded by our combined scents, and I had never been more content in my life.
The morning light crept into the room, chasing away the shadows of the night.
The first thing I was aware of was the warm weight of her in my arms.
The second was the tension in her small, rigid frame.
I could smell the sharp, sour scent of her fear, and I cursed myself, a vile oath in my own mind.
Yes, the heat had consumed us both, but I was an Alpha.
I should have been stronger, more tender, less of a goddamn animal.
I gently rolled her onto her back. She didn’t resist, but her fists were clenched at her sides and her eyes were squeezed shut.
She was bracing herself. Bracing for my attention.
Without the fire of the heat driving her, she had no desire for my touch.
I sighed, her pain a physical ache in my chest. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but I had.
I rolled away, getting up and walking to the closet. I pulled out clean slacks and a black t-shirt for myself. I found a soft, thick robe and one of my own t-shirts for her, walking back to the bed and holding them out like a peace offering.
“You can wear these until I can get you some better clothes,” I said, my voice rough.
She was curled into a tight ball, clutching the sheet to her body like a shield.
She turned to look at me, and the horror and shame in her eyes killed me all over again.
I set the clothing on the edge of the mattress and stepped back.
“I’m going downstairs. Come down when you’re dressed.”
She didn’t answer, just looked from the clothing back to me, her expression unreadable.
I took another step back, then forced myself to tear my eyes away and leave the room.
I leaned against the wall of the hallway, my head thudding against the plaster.
I could still feel the low-level hum of the heat coursing through my veins, a banked fire that hadn’t gone out.
That’s when I realized with a sickening dread: this wasn’t over.
The heat should have been sated, but it wasn’t.
How in the hell was I supposed to prove to her that I wasn’t a monster when our own biology had forced me to break her trust before I’d even had a chance to earn it?