Page 74 of To Hunt A Wolf
“Wait. They’re all from our pack?”
He nods. “Some left years ago. Others joined us more recently. But we’re all done with Crigger’s rules. These people want change, Mac. Same as we do. And they’re willing to fight for it.”
“They’re jaded,” I realize, and he offers a rueful smile.
“Too on the nose?”
“Not any worse than Romantics and Rejects, I guess.”
“I just wanted a place where I belong,” he says, and I wonder if he’s thinking of his parents. “Where maybe someday we could belong together.”
His smile fades as he waits for me to respond.
He created this place, brought these people here, to fight back. Not for Jadick. For me.
My heart swells.
Hope.
It’s almost too much to feel. I can’t remember the last time I let it in. And the urge to shove it out again is so practiced I nearly do it. But then I stop myself.
Trembling, I close the distance he’s put between us.
He’s completely still as I come to a stop before him. Like he doesn’t want to spook me. I don’t blame him. But I also don’t want to run. Not anymore.
“You never wanted to reject me?” I whisper.
I am terrified of his answer—of having this hope crushed.
“No, Mac. I never wanted to reject you.”
My eyes fill with hot tears. I blink them back. His expression softens, and he reaches up to cup my cheek again. Slowly, he leans down, and my breath catches.
I don’t move.
I don’t even breathe.
If anything ruins this—
But nothing does.
His kiss is soft. Achingly gentle and more like a memory come to life. I melt against him, my hands reaching for his shirt, his skin, his hair. Whatever I can find. I need to feel him against my fingertips.
When I wrap my arms around his neck, he growls. It’s a primal sound that wakes my beast, and I make a sound of my own—pure lust and need—and then the kiss is no longer soft or sweet. He grabs my hips, yanking me against him. Unsatisfied, he lifts me so that our bodies meet and meld in all the right places.
I cling to him, desperate and agonizingly hungry for more. His kiss is hot and rough, his tongue plunging into my mouth like a demand. He spins so that I’m pinned against the wall, and, with one hand cupping my ass to hold me steady, he slips the other hand beneath my shirt.
His fingers dip inside my bra, closing around my already hardened nipple and expertly flicking it until I’m squeezing my thighs in a silent plea for more.
“Mac,” he groans, pulling his mouth from mine so that he can trail kisses down my throat.
My fingers are tangled in his hair.
My control is long gone. No memory I possess compares to the reality of Levi touching my body.
His hand releases my breast and dives lower, rubbing at my already soaked leggings. For once, I don’t stop myself from grinding against him.
“Please,” I whimper.
