Page 43 of Feral
He stared at her with an unreadable expression for what felt like hours. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d actually felt like he was listening to her, and this was one of them. She expected him to make one of his bullshit excuses, or to dismiss her feelings entirely.
And why not? No one had ever held him accountable for his actions. It was probably monumental news to him that they had an impact on anyone else, let alone why he should care.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out so low and quiet that she almost didn’t hear them, and when she did, she wassureshe’d misheard him. “What?” she finally asked.
His eyes narrowed in a familiar glare. “I said I’m sorry. You want me to write you a letter?”
The edge of embarrassment in his voice was the only thing keeping her from thinking he was just messing with her. “You’ve never said that before,” she murmured.
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m never wrong, so don’t get used to it.”
Ella still couldn’t believe he’d actually apologized, let alone meant it, but given the increased likelihood that hell would freeze over at any moment, she had other questions she wanted answered. “Whydidyou drop off the face of the earth? You couldn’t even respond to a text?”
“Like you do?”
“That’s different and you know it. Harassing and worrying are two different things.”
“That’s just it,” he growled. “I didn’t want to talk to you after that. The way you looked at me that night was bad enough.”
It took Ella a moment to process what he was saying. The only answer that made any sense was the night he’d fought with Bishop. “I don’t understand. This is about Bishop?”
“What else?” he snapped.
Ella had never seen him this way. Embarrassed. Vulnerable. Even that night, with the other male inches away from tearing into his throat, he’d been willing to meet his end with defiance. This was a side of him she’d never imagined actually existed, and now that she knew it did, she wasn’t sure how to proceed without pushing him away again.
“Axel,” she murmured, reaching for him.
“Don’t,” he said, grabbing her wrist before she could touch him.
She ignored him, reaching up to touch his face with her other hand. “Listen to me. I don’t give a shit about that stupid fight, or who won or lost. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both idiots.” She couldn’t help but smile a little at the flash of irritation in his gaze. “Just don’t ever do that to me again.”
He blew a puff of air through his nose, but he still wasn’t looking at her. Instinct was winning out and before she could talk herself out of it, she had leaned up and pressed her lips to his. For a second, he was frozen. When he finally began to kiss her back, it was gentler than she’d expected. Nonetheless, it stirred the heat within her veins.
When he broke the kiss to look down at her, his eyes were aglow with a new kind of desire. “What the hell was that for?”
She answered by kissing him again, and this time, he responded with the usual force, pushing her up against the wall. She gasped, her arousal spiking as he pinned her. She ran her hands down his chest, her fingers splaying across its muscular planes.
In that moment, something inside of her unleashed. Something raw and rough, the perfect complement to his jagged edges. She craved his aggression as much as she craved his touch, and the combination of both had her head spinning.
“Damn, make up your mind, would you?” he taunted as her hands slipped underneath his shirt, groping his perfectly sculpted abs.
“Shut up and mate me,” Ella breathed, digging her nails into his flesh.
He punished her by thrusting his knee between her thighs and she moaned in blissful agony as the rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against her. The robe’s sash had already untied itself and Axel made quick work of the robe itself.
She thought of telling him to at least take it into the bedroom, but the journey seemed too long to be worth it. She wasn’t thinking about the possibility of someone coming in, or the mere decency of not letting him fuck her against the living room wall in someone else’s cabin. All she cared about was the pulsing need that surged every time they touched.
Something in his gaze darkened as he looked down at her naked body for the first time, and she felt the familiar needling of self-consciousness once more. When she saw the tinge of approval and lust in those verdant eyes, it faded to something else entirely.
For a moment, looking was all he did, as if he wanted to fully appreciate what was in front of him before he let his hands explore. Once they roamed freely over her curves, cupping her breasts and traveling down over the generous swell of her hips, she realized it was entirely possible to forget how to breathe.
She’d once thought Axel’s carelessness was the most dangerous thing about him. The way he snatched whatever he wanted and handled it as roughly as he pleased before tossing it away like everything and everyone else who failed to hold his attention. Now, she knew the truth. Gentleness in his hands was a far more dangerous thing. Now that she knew what it was like to be touched by him so tenderly—to be held like a precious, delicate thing—it would be so much easier for him to break her.
This time, she knew there would be no fitting the pieces back together, but it didn’t matter. She could see it all played out before her in black and white as clearly as any psychic vision, but she dove in head first regardless. Because the taste of that moment, even if that was all it ever would be, was too tempting to resist.
His lips captured hers once more, claiming and desperate. They were both breathless and her hands trembled as she unbuttoned his jeans, eager to remove the remaining barrier between them as quickly as possible. He pushed them down enough to free his shaft from his boxers and grabbed her thigh, his fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh as he hitched it up over his hip.
