CHAPTER FOUR
Roman
Roman woke the next morning at the same hour he always did—a few hours before dawn. Sleep had become a rare commodity long ago, but last night had been different. He hadn’t lain awake haunted by the ghosts of his old pack, the alpha he’d killed, or the title he’d walked away from.
No. Last night, every thought had been devoured by the woman sleeping in his guest room. One of several bedrooms. He still didn’t know why he’d built such a ridiculously large house for one lone wolf.
Yes, you do, his wolf murmured, unusually still and satisfied inside his chest. The restlessness that had plagued him for years had dulled. Now it was just lingering whispers. You built this house because you wanted a mate. And now she’s here. Under our roof. In our bed soon.
Roman ignored his wolf. Not because the animal was wrong, but because he was right.
He’d buried the need for a mate so deep he’d almost convinced himself it was gone. But the second her scent had hit him yesterday, that hunger had clawed its way back to the surface, raw and vicious. Now it was a full-blown ache. A need.
Under the need, quieter, sat the other thing—the thing he still hadn’t looked at straight on.
Five men with rifles had known exactly where his land line ran, exactly where his brothers’ scent trails crossed the ridge, exactly which draw led to a dead end.
That kind of knowledge didn’t come cheap or fast. Someone had been watching Matthews land longer than a week.
Someone was still out there. The rain would slow them, not stop them.
They had seen her face. They would come back for the witness. And for the wolf who had taken her.
The coffee maker beeped. He poured himself a cup—black, bitter, no bullshit—just like the life he’d forced himself to live.
Until her.
Until last night.
The rustle of fabric as her clothes had pooled on the bathroom floor.
The metallic click of the shower door. Then the rush of water hitting tile, followed by her low, throaty sigh of pure pleasure as the hot spray cascaded over her body.
Steam had thickened the air—he had smelled it even from his bedroom.
Warm, humid, laced with the earthy tones of his soap and that intoxicating, feminine scent of his mate.
His mind had supplied the rest in vivid, torturous detail.
Water sluicing over her full, heavy breasts, beading on her tight nipples before dripping down her stomach.
Rivulets racing lower, over her wide hips and between her thighs, teasing the slick folds of her pussy.
He’d imagined the way her skin had glistened, flushed pink from the heat.
The way her breath had caught when she ran soapy hands over her body.
The wet sounds of her palms gliding across wet flesh.
His cock surged to full, aching hardness at the memory, straining painfully against his sweatpants. A thick bead of precum leaked from the tip, soaking through the fabric.
She’d taste like heaven, his wolf growled, licking its chops. Sweet, warm honey mixed with that sharp, spicy heat. I want my tongue buried between her thighs, lapping up every drop.
Roman agreed with his wolf. He wanted those thighs locked around his head while she came on his face.
His hand tightened on the mug until the ceramic groaned.
He could practically feel her—slick, and so fucking ready.
His fingers sliding through her soaked folds, circling her swollen clit while she moaned his name.
Then replacing them with the thick head of his cock, pushing into her tight, clenching heat inch by inch until he was buried balls-deep.
He’d fuck her slow and deep at first, letting her feel every ridge, every throb. Then harder. Faster. Until the wet slap of skin on skin echoed off the tiles and her cries turned raw and desperate.
Roman closed his eyes, breathing hard through his nose. His cock was throbbing viciously now, the need to stalk down the hall and make every filthy fantasy real nearly overwhelming him.
Mark her, the wolf demanded. Bite that pretty throat while you breed her. Pump her full of our cum until her belly swells with our pups.
The wolf still wasn’t wrong. That was the hell of it. Six years of telling the animal to be quiet, and the first time it had ever been right about anything, it was right about everything.
“Did you make enough for two?”
The sound of Ella’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. He quickly gathered himself. “Yeah. I’ll pour you a cup.”
As he handed her the coffee, he couldn’t keep his gaze off her.
She was wearing one of his long-sleeved shirts, the sleeves rolled up twice and still swallowing her hands.
The hem hung just past the curve of her ass, teasing him with the bare skin of her thighs.
Had she put on her panties from yesterday, or was she bare underneath?
The thought alone made his cock jerk hard against the front of his sweatpants.
He wanted to drop to his knees, push that shirt up, and find out with his mouth.
“So what’s on the agenda today, Warden? How do you entertain your inmates?” She walked over and stood beside him, looking up with a playful smile. His wolf grinned back, hungry.
He was midway through composing a response when Ella went still, leaning closer to the window. “Someone’s coming.”
A truck worked its way up the muddy drive. Roman recognized the shape and rumble immediately. “That’s Declan.”
He got the door open before Declan reached the porch and stood there with the rain coming down steady around him, every sense stretched tight.
The tree line was too quiet. The rain would have washed most of the scent trails, but not all of them.
Men who had already scouted this land once would not stay gone.
They would circle. They would wait for the rain to ease.
They would come for the woman who could identify them.
Ella came up next to him a second later, arms crossed against the chill blowing in off the yard.
Declan walked through the rain slow and unbothered, a cardboard box balanced against one hip.
His eyes went past Roman to the tree line and back before they ever landed on the porch—a habit Roman recognized because it was his own.
“What’s that?” Roman asked.
“Food.” Declan set the box down on the porch. “Figured you didn’t have much in there besides hardtack and jerky.”
“Thank you. And you’re right, he has that and about thirty cans of soup,” Ella said, with feeling.
“She’s a guest,” Declan stated, as if that explained the unexpected food delivery.
“I’m not a guest,” Ella said. “I am apparently under house arrest, aren’t I, Warden Roman?”
“You’re safe,” Roman growled. He bent down and picked up the box. Eggs, a loaf of real bread, vegetables that hadn’t come out of a can. “Thanks, Declan. I should’ve thought of this myself.”
“Your mind was elsewhere,” Declan said, and something in the flat delivery of it told Roman his brother meant both the woman standing next to him and the five armed strangers still unaccounted for on their land.
She took the box from Roman’s arms, her hands brushing against his.
It took everything in him not to drop the box and pull her into his arms. The need to touch her and taste her was growing by the minute.
Her fingers against his skin sent a jolt straight to his cock.
He wanted those same hands wrapped around him.
He wanted her on her knees. He wanted her bent over the kitchen table with that shirt pushed up around her waist while he fucked until she screamed his name.
She turned to Declan and smiled. “Thank you, again, Declan.”
The two wolves watched her go inside.
“The rain washed away most of the prints and scents.”
Roman nodded. “I figured as much.”
He knew that wouldn’t keep his brothers from searching.
And he knew they would find the men. It would just take a little longer.
The threat was still out there. Circling.
Waiting. Pruitt had looked at him like a prize to be sold.
He would not walk away from that kind of money.
Or from the woman who had seen his face.
Glancing back at the open doorway, he saw Ella unpacking the box. She gave a little squeal when she took out a chocolate bar. He glanced at his brother. There were depths to Declan that even he didn’t know about.
“When are you going to tell her?” Declan asked.
“When I can’t resist it anymore.” It was the kind of admission a man usually kept for himself.
Declan looked out at the rain, unreadable as ever, then said, “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Roman.
You deserve some happiness. You deserve her.
” A pause, and something almost gentle came into his voice.
“Don’t fuck it up.” Another pause, longer.
“And watch the tree line. Whoever scouted this property knew exactly where our patrols run. That’s not luck.
That’s homework. They’re still out there.
Rain or no rain. They’ll come back for her. ”
“I know.”
Declan nodded once and headed back down the steps into the rain. Roman carried the lingering weight of the conversation inside and shut the door on the cold.
“It’s letting up,” he said, as he joined her in the kitchen.
She turned, hope brightening her face. “Can we take a walk?”
“You need warmer clothes.” The air was damp and chilly despite the late summer timing. He retrieved a pair of his sweatpants from the bedroom. “Put these on. You’ll need them.”
“Are you sure they’ll fit?”
He frowned down at her, hands on hips. “What did you say?”
“Fit. I hope they fit me.”
“Why the hell would you think they wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you have the body of a Greek god and I’m more like a pudgy cherub. You have a waist. I have hips.”
Roman growled, his fists clenched at his sides.
He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to bed.
Show her exactly what her hips did to him.
Show her that every generous curve she thought was a flaw was the precise reason his cock had been hard since the second he scented her. “They’ll fit just fine.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t say anything else before walking to the bedroom to change.
They walked along the fence line that surrounded Roman’s house.
The rain eased into a light drizzle. She talked while they walked and he realized she was doing it out of nervousness.
He listened with half his attention, the rest of him aware of every shift in her scent and the sway of her hips in his clothes, and a third, colder part of him tracking the tree line the way he’d tracked it every day for six years, except now every shadow mattered twice as much.
The men were still out there. He could feel it in the way the woods held their breath.
She stepped on a slick patch of mud, and her foot went out from under her.
With a startled gasp, Ella pitched forward.
Roman’s arms snapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest to keep her from falling.
For a heartbeat they stood frozen like that.
Her curves pressed flush to his hard body, her full breasts crushed against his chest, her wide hips fitting perfectly against him, her hands fisted in his shirt, their faces inches apart.
His control snapped. Not fully, but enough to make him do what he did next.
He kissed her.
He kissed like a starving man. Hard, deep, and ravenous. Because he was. He hadn’t had a woman in his arms since before his pack had torn itself apart. And now, now he didn’t know if he could survive without Ella next to him.
His mouth claimed hers with bruising intensity, tongue sliding past her lips without seeking permission. Thrusting deep and hard. Fucking her mouth the way he wanted to fuck her. Wet, messy, and demanding. He tasted coffee and chocolate and pure woman. Mated. The wolf howled in triumph.
Growling into her mouth, he backed her against the nearest sturdy tree. One big hand sliding down to grip a full, generous ass cheek, squeezing possessively while he ground his rock-hard cock against her belly so she could feel exactly what she did to him.
And what he wanted to do to her.
She moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating straight through his chest as her hands fisted tighter in his shirt, pulling him even closer.
Their tongues tangled, slick and desperate, teeth grazing lips in a kiss that was almost claiming, but not.
He devoured her. Licking, sucking, biting at her lower lip.
She rolled her hips desperately against him, and the feel of all that giving flesh made his cock throb so hard it hurt.
He wanted to drop to his knees right there in the mud, yank those sweatpants down, and bury his face between her thighs until she came on his tongue.
He wanted to spin her around, bend her over, and sink into her from behind so he could watch that perfect ass bounce while he fucked her.
He wanted to fill her until she dripped with him.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen and glistening, thoroughly kissed.
“Okay,” Ella said. “What was that?”
Roman shook his head. His cock was still straining against her, and every instinct he owned screamed at him to finish what he’d started. “We should go back.”
“Very helpful.” She let go of his shirt like it had burned her and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.
He fell into step beside her in silence, the taste of her still burning on his tongue and the wolf finally quiet with dark, dangerous satisfaction. They had finally tasted their mate. And the men who wanted to take her from him were still out there in the trees, waiting for their chance.
Roman’s hand stayed near the small of her back the entire walk home, every sense stretched tight, every shadow a possible threat. The kiss had only made the need worse. He would not lose her. Not to the past. Not to the men hunting them. Not to anything.