Page 9 of Wolf's Redemption

“It’s not safe for me here either,” she said.

It was a risk, speaking again, but if he answered her, she could pinpoint his location.

“You think I would hurt you?” He sounded affronted. Bek didn’t care. “I would never hurt you.”

His voice floated out of the darkness. Close. Too close.Shit.Stealthy it was.

Her fingers clenched around… She still had her phone. With a flat battery, it had but one use now. As a distraction.

Bek threw it away from her. It hit the floor off to the right with a satisfying thunk. Easing to her feet, she took a silent step to the left. Then another, and another, feeling her way along the wall with shaking fingers. She’d follow it to the stairway.

“I gave you my oath. I would not hurt you.”

His voice sounded off to the right, near where her phone had landed.Yes!She pumped her fist in silent celebration and kept following the wall. The stairs had to be close.

“You think I would try to force myself on you like thatfilth?”

His disembodied voice moved closer and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She took another step.

Where are those damn stairs?

She kept moving, placing each foot with care, though she wanted nothing more than to bolt.

“I would only ever give you what you ask for.”

Her thighs clenched, his raspy voice sending shivers down her spine, and heat straight to her clit. She closed her eyes against the suffocating darkness and focused on calming her racing heart. The darkness was doing a number on her. That and the erotic image of him, bare chested and wielding a sword, like an actor in some period drama or action flick. Chris Hemsworth, eat your heart out.

Get a grip, Bek, andget the fuck out of here.

She took a steadying breath, opened her eyes and inched her way forward, cautious in her movements. Her questing fingershit the cold stone wall. The corner.Thank God.She turned, trailing one hand along the wall. Was she close to the steps? Did she have the right wall?

A prickle of awareness skipped up her spine. Her heart stuttered and her muscles locked. He was right behind her. She just knew it. She could feel it.

Oh, shit.

The press of his chest against her shoulder blades and the heat from his body seeping through her cotton blouse made her tremble. His scent, deep and musky, swirled around her and his long hair brushed her shoulder.

“And you will ask,” he whispered, his breath hot on the side of her face. “Nay, you will beg for my attention.”

Bek ran. She bolted for where she hoped the stairs would be, colliding with a solid wall of muscle.

She screamed. He laughed.

Then she was in the air, flung over his shoulder like she weighed little more than an empty sack, his arm banding about her thighs.

“Put me down, you overgrown oaf!” She pummeled his back with her fists, wincing as pain flared in her injured hand. He didn’t even have the decency to grunt at her efforts.

She tried harder, kicking her feet, hoping to connect with something soft and sensitive. “As if I’d ask for it,begfor it… In your dreams, asshole!”

He chuckled. “My, you are a sassy wench.”

His palm shifted, sliding up between her thighs. Bek shrieked. “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip off your balls.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You can try, sweetness. And I shall very much enjoy the trying.” He slapped her on the ass. “Now duck.”

“What?”

“Duck, or you will hit your head.”

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