Page 39 of The Reaper's Vow
The reminder of the upcoming meeting sends a fresh wave of panic through me. I can barely think straight as it is, how am Isupposed to face the most dominant wolf in the territory while my body burns with unfinished need?
“There has to be another way.” I pace to the window, putting distance between us that feels both necessary and torturous. “Suppressants, medication, something.”
He doesn’t move closer. “I’ve seen what happens when someone is separated from their mate during the heat cycle. It’s not pretty, Karina. If you think males are feral…”
I press my forehead to the cool glass, desperate for even a moment’s relief from the fire licking beneath my skin. Outside, wolves drift across the compound. Males who will scent me the instant I step beyond this room. The thought makes my stomach knot with dread.
“What you’re suggesting… it wouldn’t change anything between us?” I ask without turning around. “It wouldn’t affect the three-day agreement?”
“No.” His response is too sharp, too sure. His features remain carefully arranged, though, betraying nothing.
“You’re lying.” My reflection stares back from the glass—flushed, disheveled. “I can feel it. You’re holding something back.”
The silence stretches, heavy with everything unsaid. When he finally answers, the sound is rougher, pulled taut. “Relief won’t change our agreement. But it might complicate things.”
“Complicate how?” I turn toward him and regret it instantly. Hunger radiates off him like fire from a forge. The towel hangs low on his hips, and it takes everything in me to keep my focus above his shoulders.
“Because once I touch you that way, I won’t want to stop.” The stark honesty in his words makes my wolf purr in satisfaction. “Because your scent will be on my hands, in my mouth, and my wolf will go insane knowing I’ve tasted you but can’t have you fully.”
My cheeks burn at his bluntness, but liquid fire gathers low in my belly in response.
“And because,” he adds, stepping closer, “you’ll know exactly how good I can make you feel.”
Air hitches in my lungs at his certainty, the raw inevitability of it sending another molten rush through me. The way he says it makes my wolf howl with anticipation.
“You’re very sure of yourself,” I manage, trying to sound dismissive even as my body betrays me. The scent of my arousal thickens in the air between us, impossible to hide from him.
He moves closer, prowling toward me with predatory grace that makes my heart hammer against my ribs. “I'm sure of what I smell. What I feel.” His gaze drops to where my nipples have hardened beneath my thin sleep shirt. “What I see right in front of me.”
I back up until I hit the window, the cool glass a stark contrast to my overheated skin. “This is…it doesn't mean anything.”
“Keep telling yourself that, kitten.” His hand rises, hovering near my face without touching. Even that almost-contact sends electricity skittering across my skin. “Your wolf knows better.”
She does. She's practically clawing at my insides, desperate for his touch, the completion of what we started. The rational part of me—the human who values independence and choice—is rapidly losing ground to the creature inside of me.
“I need to shower and get ready to meet the alpha,” I answer, grasping for any excuse I can.
“I don't fucking care.”
He pounces before I can react, his body caging me against the window as his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is nothing like I expected—not gentle, not tentative, but consuming. Devouring. His tongue sweeps past my lips,seizingme with a ferocity that makes my knees buckle.
My wolf howls with triumph as I melt against him, my body betraying me completely. His hands find my waist, fingers digging into my hips with bruising force as he lifts me effortlessly. My legs wrap around him of their own accord, my core pressing against the hard ridge beneath his towel.
“Damien,” I gasp when he finally breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing fire down my neck toward thescarhe left. “We shouldn't?—”
“Tell me to stop,” he growls against my skin, teeth grazing the tender flesh where his bite still throbs. “Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away.”
I can't. The words stick in my throat as his hand slides beneath my sleep shirt, calloused fingers skimming across my ribs. Every touch sends lightning through my veins, the connection between us amplifying every sensation until I'm drowning in need.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, satisfaction rumbling through his chest as he carries me across the room. My back hits the mattress with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs. He looms over me like a predatorlaying claim to prey. The towel slips in our struggle, revealing hard muscle and dark tattoos.
“I want your fucking eyes on me, kitten,” he orders, one hand cupping my face to hold my gaze.
I should protest. Should push him away and remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea. But my body is no longer my own—it belongs to the fire he's ignited, to the wolf prowling beneath my skin, to theimprintthrobbing at my neck.
His mouthtakesmine again, swallowing my gasp as his hand slides between my thighs. Even through the thin fabric of my sleep shorts, his touch sends electricity racing through my veins. My hips buck against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of everything he's offering.
“So responsive,” he growls against my lips, his fingers finding the waistband of my shorts. “Already soaked for me, aren't you, kitten?”
