Chapter 11
Carter
Devon was sitting on my lap, and I couldn’t stop staring at him.
His weight settled perfectly against me, his legs bracketing my hips, his hands light against my shoulders.
It should’ve felt awkward, should’ve felt too much, but instead it felt inevitable. Like he’d always belonged here.
My wolf rumbled deep in my chest, smug and pleased, the sound vibrating through my ribs.
I’d never thought of myself as a lucky man. Thornebane had been my burden, my duty, my fight since Adrian’s death.
But in that moment, with Devon’s dark eyes gazing down at me, with that faint smile tugging at his mouth, I couldn’t shake the thought. How the hell did I get so lucky?
“Carter,” he murmured, soft but steady.
My hands slid up his sides, fingers memorizing the shape of him. Heat burned beneath my palms, and every inch of me wanted more. Wanted all of him.
I tilted my head back to look at him. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” I said.
He huffed out a laugh, embarrassed, but his eyes softened.
“You’re just saying that,” Devon said.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve never said it to anyone. Not like this.”
His expression shifted, something unguarded slipping through. Then Devon leaned in, pressing his mouth to mine.
The kiss was soft at first, exploratory. But the second his lips parted, the second his tongue brushed against mine, my control snapped.
I groaned, deep and hungry, pulling him tighter against me. His hands threaded into my hair, tugging, and that small rough edge sent fire racing through my veins.
He gasped against my mouth when I dragged my fingers down his spine. My wolf howled with satisfaction at the sound.
I didn’t want the couch. Didn’t want the walls between us and where this needed to go. Without breaking the kiss, I rose to my feet, Devon clinging instinctively to me.
I carried him, his legs tightening around my waist, his lips still claiming mine. It felt primal, instinctual.
My wolf reveled in it. Ours, it whispered, and I couldn’t even bring myself to argue. I carried him to the bedroom, kicking the door open with my foot. The bed waited.
I laid him down gently, even though my insides screamed to devour him. He looked up at me, pupils wide, lips swollen from kissing. God, I’d never seen anything more beautiful.
I hovered over him, letting my fingers trace the lines of his jaw, his throat, his chest. He arched into my touch, his breath shaky, but his gaze never left mine.
“Carter,” he whispered again.
I swear my name had never sounded so sacred. I bent, kissing him slow this time, savoring the press of his lips, the heat of his body against mine.
My wolf wanted to mark him, claim him, keep him. I wanted to let it.
I lost track of time, lost track of everything but him. The way Devon touched me back, tentative at first then bolder, like he was learning me by heart.
The way he gasped when I mouthed at the curve of his shoulder. The way his fingers clutched at me like he didn’t want me to let go.
Every brush of skin to skin, every sigh, every trembling exhale wound me tighter.
When the last barriers of clothing fell away, there was nothing between us but heat and trust. I held him close, murmuring his name, letting instinct guide me.
I wasn’t rough. I couldn’t be. With him, it was reverent, desperate, and real.
Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise we didn’t dare say out loud blurred together into something I’d never known I craved.
“I want you in me,” Devon whispered.
“Same.” The single word came out as a growl.
I parted from him momentarily to grab a condom and lube from a nearby dresser drawer. When I returned to the bed, Devon had positioned himself on the edge of the bed.
Seeing him on all fours, I let out a satisfied growl. I lubed his passage, then slid one, then two fingers inside him.
After widening him for access, I put the condom on and replaced my digits with my cock. Gripping his hips, I entered him, slow and steady.
The last thing I wanted was to rush, to hurt him by accident in my eagerness and hunger. Devon moaned, gripping the sheets as I buried myself to the hilt.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Move, Carter,” he ordered.
Grinning, I complied. I started with a steady rhythm at first, picking up speed when Devon begged. Soon enough, I reduced us both to sweating animals.
Each time I entered Devon, it felt like the world had narrowed its scope for the two of us.
I quickly forgot about my pack problems, of the fact Devon would be returning to Pecan Pines eventually. All that mattered was us.
I shifted the angle of my thrusts, making Devon gasp and arch his back. Knowing I brushed against his prostate, I aimed for it repeatedly. My balls tightened against my body.
At my last push, Devon came, screaming out my name. It sounded like music to my ears. Several thrusts later, the pressure building inside me burst open and I climaxed.
I stayed inside him for a few moments, enjoying the feel of his skin, his scent.
Eventually I pulled away and headed to the bathroom to grab a towel. After cleaning us both up, I joined him back in bed.
Devon lay curled against me, head on my chest, his breathing steady, his warmth seeping into my bones.
I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him even closer. My wolf sighed, content, pressing against him like it had finally found what it had been searching for all along.
I brushed a hand through his dark hair, unable to stop touching him.
Devon shifted, murmuring something incoherent, and pressed his lips lazily to my skin before settling back down.
I should’ve been exhausted. I should’ve been asleep. But my mind wouldn’t still.
Instead, I stared at the ceiling, my chest tight with something far more dangerous than desire.
Because in that moment, with Devon tangled against me, I realized I didn’t think I could let him go.
The thought of watching him walk away, of sending him back to Pecan Pines, felt unbearable. I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, my heart aching.
“I don’t want to let you go,” I whispered into the quiet, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me.
For the first time in what like forever, the fear I carried wasn’t about leading Thornebane properly. It was about losing the one healer who’d managed to worm his way into my heart.
Devon stirred against me, sighing, his hand sliding across my stomach in sleep. That small, unconscious gesture made my wolf surge forward, wild and demanding.
My teeth ached. My mouth burned. All I had to do was lower my head, press my canines to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and claim.
The mark pulsed at the edges of my control, instinct screaming that he was mine. Mine to protect, mine to keep, mine to never let go.
I shut my eyes, clutching him tighter.
Not now and not like this.
Devon wasn’t ready. Hell, maybe I wasn’t ready. But my wolf didn’t care about readiness.
It only cared that he was here, warm and trusting in my arms, his scent wrapped around me until it was all I could breathe.
My lips brushed the side of his throat, and I froze. His pulse beat there, steady and fragile, and the need to sink my teeth in nearly undid me.
My body shook with it, a full-body tremor that left my breath ragged. Logic whispered louder, fighting back. If I marked him now, I’d steal his choice.
He’d wake bound to me, bound to Thornebane, with no chance to walk away even if he wanted to. I’d be no better than Adrian.
I couldn’t do that to Devon. Not after the way his life had already been dictated by duty to his own pack and family. Devon deserved freedom.
He deserved a say in who held his soul.
My wolf snarled at that thought, viciously opposed, but I forced myself to breathe. One breath, then another, counting the rise and fall of his chest as if it could anchor me.
Devon shifted again, nuzzling into me, his breath warm against my skin. I bit back a groan. Did he have any idea what he was doing to me?
I buried my face in his hair, gripping the sheet with one hand to stop myself from grabbing him too roughly.
The ache in my chest felt unbearable, like the mark itself was branding me from the inside out even without my teeth sinking in.
Slowly and deliberately, I pulled back just enough to look at him. His lashes fanned against his cheek, his expression soft in sleep, his mouth parted slightly. Vulnerable and trusting.
Don’t betray that.
That thought cut through the haze like steel.
I pressed a careful kiss to the spot where my wolf wanted to claim him most. Just a kiss, lingering, reverent, instead of the bite screaming to be unleashed.
My heart thundered, but I forced myself to stop there. To hold him closer without giving in. To let him rest against me while I fought the war inside.
Eventually, the sharp edge of the instinct dulled. My wolf didn’t retreat. Hell, it was still pacing, restless, unsatisfied, but it quieted enough for me to breathe again.
I stroked his back slowly, grounding myself in the rhythm. He murmured in his sleep, pressing closer, and I knew in that moment that I could wait.
Because if he ever wore my mark, it wouldn’t be stolen in the dead of night. It would be given freely, knowingly, when he chose me too.
I exhaled shakily, my body still tight with restraint.
“Not yet,” I whispered against his temple, my voice hoarse. “But one day, Devon.”
I closed my eyes, holding him until the storm inside me eased into something softer. Something like peace.
When dawn broke, pale light spilling through the thin curtains of my cabin, I was already awake.
I hadn’t really slept, not fully. Every time I drifted off, my wolf would jolt me back, restless, reminding me that Devon was in my arms.
Reminding me that I hadn’t claimed him when I’d had the chance. And every time I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at him.
Devon looked impossibly young in sleep, his face softened, his lips parted.
One arm sprawled across my chest, his leg tangled with mine, like he’d simply melted into me during the night. My chest ached at the sight.
I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and let my fingers linger longer than I should.
My wolf rumbled in satisfaction at the contact, but the instinct to mark him returned sharp and fierce. The hollow at the base of his neck called to me like nothing ever had.
One bite. That was all it would take. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stillness. I couldn’t. Instead, I shifted carefully, pressing a kiss to his temple.
My lips lingered there, breathing him in, until he stirred.
His lashes fluttered. A low hum slipped from his throat before he buried his face deeper against me.
“Morning,” Devon mumbled, voice rough with sleep.
That one word, wrecked with drowsiness, nearly undid me.
“Morning,” I managed.
My hand traced circles along his back, slow and steady, like I could soothe both him and my wolf at once. Devon finally lifted his head, blinking at me.
His hair was mussed, his mouth pink from sleep. The sight made me want things I had no right wanting.
“You’re staring,” he said, his voice quiet but teasing.
“Can you blame me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Heat climbed my neck, but Devon only huffed a laugh and shook his head. Silence stretched for a moment. Comfortable, heavy with the weight of what we weren’t saying.
I knew I should move, should get up, should put some distance between us before my wolf pushed past the fragile leash I’d managed to keep on it. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked, searching my face with those sharp healer eyes.
“Some,” I lied.
His brow furrowed, like he could see right through me, and maybe he could. But then he just sighed and settled back against me, his head resting on my chest.
The sound of his breathing evened out again, and I let myself relax a little.
My hand stayed at his back, grounding myself in the steady rhythm of his lungs, the rise and fall of his body against mine.
For a moment, I let myself imagine it could always be like this.
Waking up with him in my arms. Having someone to share the quiet mornings with. Letting him see the pieces of me I never showed anyone else.
I swallowed hard, pushing it down, forcing myself back into the role I knew best. Lead alpha, steady, in control.
When Devon stirred again, stretching like a cat, I finally spoke.
“Do you want to eat here?” My voice was rough, and I cleared my throat. “Or with the rest of the pack this morning?”
Devon lifted his head, blinking at me. Then he gave a small smile, warm enough to loosen something in my chest.
“With the pack,” he said.
I nodded, though my wolf bristled at the idea of sharing him. Still, I managed a smile in return.
“Then with the pack it is,” I said.