by Sadie Moss
“What does it look like? I’m leaving.”
He tied off one of the strips of fabric with a sharp tug that made me wince. “Like hell you are.”
I slapped his hands away from my arm. I couldn’t handle him touching me while we spoke. Even though his hands were rough, they set fire racing through me every time his skin brushed mine. I didn’t want to feel that way, didn’t want to care about him. Not when I knew how much he despised me.
“Why do you even care?” I snarled. “I’ll be out of your hair forever. You got what you wanted. You got me to leave.”
He froze, staring at me through the darkness. “You think I wanted you to leave?”
“Well, you made that pretty fucking obvious when you said you wished you hadn’t brought me with you in the first place.”
Rhys stepped closer. So close I could feel the brush of his muscular chest against mine, making my nipples go taut. So close I could feel his cock against my stomach.
Hot.
And growing hard.
He sucked in a ragged breath, dropping the pieces of my shirt and grasping my face in both hands, forcing me to look up at him.
“You’re wrong, Alexis. I never wanted you to leave. I said it was a mistake to bring you with us. And it was. Because now I never want to fucking lose you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. My wolf has practically been crawling out of my skin trying to get to you. It won’t let me sleep. It won’t let me focus. All I can think about is you. Your fucking fierce spirit, your beautiful goddamn eyes, your sweet as hell innocence.”
I blinked. All the things he’d just said sounded like compliments, but the tone of his voice suggested they weren’t.
So why was he looking at me like he wanted to consume me?
My gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, so close to mine I felt like I was drowning in the deep blue pools of his irises. I couldn’t see anything else, couldn’t feel anything else. My wound pulsed in time to my rapid heartbeat, but the pain was drowned out by the hurricane of confusion and desire tearing through me.
“I don’t want to go,” I admitted, my anger at him rising again. “You four are my only anchors in the whole world. You mean more to me than anyone. You saved my life—you are my life. But you’re a pack. I’m not.” My voice broke. “I can’t stand to be alone on the outskirts of something I’m not a part of, watching and wishing I belonged. I deserve better than that.”
Something feral flashed in his eyes. They shifted briefly, becoming almost wolf-like.
“You think you’re not a part of us?” He grabbed my hand roughly, pressing it to his chest, where his heart pounded out a staccato rhythm. “You are, Alexis. You’re a part of this. My heart beats for you, every fucking minute of every fucking day. You’re so deep under my skin, I don’t know how to get you out.”
“Do you want me out?”
The words were barely a whisper, and it felt like my entire existence hinged on his answer.
Rhys stared at me, a riot of emotions churning in his ice-blue eyes.
Then he hauled me toward him, pressing my half naked body flush against his and claiming my lips in a blistering kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I had never been kissed before.
And in all the fantasies I’d had when I’d touched myself at night, locked away in my small room in the Strand compound, it had never been like this.
This was fire and ice, desperation and satisfaction, hate and love all wrapped into one.
Rhys’s lips were warm, hungry, and demanding as he pressed them against mine, his large hands splaying across my back, keeping me upright when my knees buckled.
He licked the seam of my lips, and I opened them on a sharp gasp. He wasted no time, plunging his tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss as he tasted me. A groan rose in his throat, and the sound strummed through me like a perfect chord, making slick wetness gather at the apex of my thighs.
I had brought that noise out of him.
I had made him lose control like this.
It was a heady thought.
And he wasn’t the only one out of control. I felt drunk, high out of my mind as my tongue battled with his, sucking in breath through my nose like I was suffocating.
I was a virgin by circumstance, but as inexperienced as I was, my body responded instinctively, doing what felt good. I rolled my hips against him, seeking friction against my clit, and one of his hands slipped lower, cupping my ass and helping me work myself against his bare leg. His thick, hard cock pressed into my side, and he groaned. Stars exploded in my vision as the pressure on my clit sent fire bolts of pleasure zinging through my body.
Rhys tore his mouth away from mine, grabbing a fistful of my blonde hair and tugging it back to expose my neck for him. He trailed his lips over my jaw and throat, breathing heavily, nipping and licking the sensitive skin.
“Fuck, Lexi. Fucking Christ. You taste better than I imagined. You feel better. You’re fucking perfect.”
A loud voice I hardly recognized as my own cried out as he bit down hard on the junction where my shoulder met my neck. My arms were wrapped around his neck, and my fingernails dug into the smooth skin of his muscled back as my hands clenched.
He pulled away from me, leaving my throbbing clit desperate for more. But when he dipped his head to lick a warm, wet trail down my sternum and over my breast, my breath hitched. And when he unclasped my bra and tossed it aside to close his mouth around my peaked nipple, I grabbed onto his head with both hands, holding him in place as his teeth scraped across the delicate bud. His tongue lashed over it in long, full strokes, and a new kind of pleasure flowed through my nerve endings.
I had never experienced this before.
I’d brought myself to orgasm with my own hand plenty of times, but I’d never really paid much attention to my nipples. How had I neglected them for so long? Why? They were electric, hard as diamonds, and almost as sensitive as my clit. When Rhys brought his hand up from my ass to roll my other nipple between his fingers, my eyes flew back in my head. I was panting, unable to get enough oxygen to feed the fire burning inside me.
My hands ran through the sexy strands of black hair that tumbled around his shoulders. They brushed against my skin as he continued to suck on my breasts, alternating which one he put his mouth on.
I wriggled my hips restlessly, needing more. Needing everything.
Urged on by a primal, rising desperation, my fingers skated across the hard planes of his chest, down the ripples of his abdominal muscles, until they brushed against coarse hair and velvety skin.
Rhys released my nipple with a snarl when I closed my hand around the base of his cock. The thick organ pulsed within my grip, seeming almost to have a mind of its own. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but the feel of his cock in my hand turned me on so much I didn’t want to stop. So I ran my hand lightly up to the tip, where wetness seeped from the small slit. I spread the moisture around with my thumb, using it to ease the friction as I pumped his shaft twice, tightening my grip a little.
The black-haired wolf shifter straightened, holding me close and pressing his lips to the top of my head as I worked his cock in my hand. I could feel his whole body shaking, knew how much restraint it took for him to remain still. To allow me this moment of control.
And I wasn’t going to waste it.
Biting my lip, I traced my other hand down his abs, feeling the muscles contract under my touch. I let my touch travel below the base of his pulsing, veined shaft, brushing my fingers over the sack that hung there. The skin was a different texture than his cock, and when I cupped the whole thing gently in my hand, Rhys’s grip on the back of my neck tightened.
Fuck. I liked this. I liked this way too much.
I grew bolder, coordinating the movements of my hands until Rhys lost control with a roar. He yanked my hands away, wrapping his arms around me and pressing me to him as he walked me backward.
My feet barely touched the ground, and the
next thing I knew, the rough bark of a tree was at my back. Rhys used the leverage to pin my body even tighter against his, grinding his cock into my stomach as his lips found mine again.
This time, I didn’t even hesitate, just opened my mouth and welcomed him in, letting our tongues meet in a fierce dance. I could smell something heady and musky in the air, and I wasn’t sure if it was my arousal or his. Or both. But the scent spurred me on, made me ache for the one thing that promised to end this exquisite torture.
“Rhys!”
The word was a plea.
A command.
A prayer.
“Oh fuck, Lexi. I love the sound of my name on your lips. Say it again,” he muttered against my mouth.
“Rhys,” I groaned, rubbing my body against his, trying to find the perfect friction.
“Do you want me to take care of you? I’ve got you.”
His voice was a rough whisper, and before I could process anything else, his hand was at the waistband of my pants, undoing the button, unzipping the fly.
Then his fingers were on my clit, and oh holy shit, my own hand had never, ever felt this good. Rhys’s touch was rough, his fingers large and thick, and as he worked small circles over the hard nub of my clit, the pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain.
“Oh God!”
I clung to him for dear fucking life. It was the only thing I could do. Sensations ricocheted through me like fireflies trapped in a jar, and my knees shook as his fingers worked faster.
Rhys pressed his cheek to mine, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “That’s it, Lexi. Let it go. Come on my fucking hand. I want to feel you come apart.”
The dirty growl in my ear, the feel of his breath ruffling my hair—it was too much. My core clenched around nothing as the most powerful orgasm of my life crashed over me, sending waves of pleasure cascading through my body. Aftershocks quaked through me, and Rhys slowed the movement of his fingers but didn’t stop, helping me ride out the first orgasm into another one.
When the torrent of pleasure finally faded, I opened my eyes, which I hadn’t even realized I’d squeezed shut in my ecstasy.
Rhys pulled back slightly to stare at me, a look of such raw hunger on his face that my body instantly sparked back to life. I’d just had two earth-shattering orgasms, but there was a craving deep inside me that seemed like it would never be sated.
I reached down to stroke him again, and he growled, burying his head in my neck as one large finger, already soaked with my wetness, slipped inside me.
My hand tightened around his cock. I wanted him inside me. Now.
Rhys’s finger pressed deeper into my channel, and I squeezed my inner muscles around him. When the tip of his finger brushed against the barrier inside me, I felt it.
So did he.
He froze.
Then he pulled back from me, his blue eyes shadowed and his face strained with tension. “Lexi… Are you a—?”
“It doesn’t matter!” I blurted, grabbing his shoulders to keep him close.
And it didn’t. I was a virgin because I’d never had the chance to be anything else. I’d been focused only on getting well during my years in the Strand complex, and the opportunities for dating—or even casual hookups—had been pretty much nil in that place.
But I wasn’t some precious, delicate object. I didn’t need to be treated like an innocent flower.
And I wanted this. I wanted Rhys buried inside me, needed to feel that connection between us. Maybe then I’d believe all those words he’d said earlier—stop fearing that at any second he’d flip again and go back to ignoring me or shooting me angry glares.
But it was happening already. I could see the shutters falling over his beautiful blue eyes, blocking me out again, hiding his feelings.
He pulled his finger out of me, and I felt so empty I wanted to weep. I clung harder to his arms, but he brought his hands up, breaking my grip. Then he backed up several paces, leaving me slumped, half-undressed, against the large tree.
Rhys stood naked before me. The moonlight filtering through the trees cast his muscled body in sharp light and shadows. His large cock glistened in the light, wet from his precum.
He was still hard. So hard. He had to want me as much as I wanted him.
So why was he backing away?
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, the emotional rollercoaster that had started with the mountain lion’s attack finally catching up with me. I didn’t understand what had just happened, but I felt sick as I stared across the small clearing at the darkly beautiful man before me.
There couldn’t have been more than a couple yards between us, but the space felt so vast I worried we’d never cross it again.
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to speak without crying. “Rhys. It’s okay. I want—”
But he cut me off with a sharp shake of his head. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have come after you. This was a fucking mistake.”
My heart cracked in half, the pieces falling into the vat of acid churning in my stomach. Goose bumps broke out over my flushed, sweaty skin, and I felt horribly exposed.
I pressed my hands over my breasts, leaning back against the tree as if I could somehow get the trunk to absorb me. When I spoke, my voice was harsh in the quiet night air.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. Next time, don’t.”
His nostrils flared, and for a moment, I thought he was going to stride across the distance and sweep me back up in his arms.
But he didn’t.
He remained rooted to the spot, his gaze burning into me until he finally spoke.
“Come back to camp.” His voice was low and rough. “I can’t let you just wander off into the woods at night. Especially not injured. My pack mates would fucking kill me.”
Right. He was worried about how they would feel. Not how I would feel.
But I was injured. Rhys had destroyed my shirt to bandage my wounds, and I didn’t have an extra change of clothes with me. Even if I did, I’d been stupid to think I could really make a go of it on my own with nothing more than an ID and less than a hundred dollars in cash. Stupid to think I could even make it back to civilization alive.
And even if it wasn’t at all in the way I wanted, Rhys had extended me an invitation to stay with him and the others. I couldn’t throw that away just because my heart was a splintered, acid-soaked mess.
“Fine.”
The word burned as if my throat were coated in glass.
Rhys didn’t say anything else. He continued to stare at me as the muscles and bones beneath his skin rippled. Fur sprouted, and a moment later, the large gray wolf with piercing blue eyes stood in the center of the clearing. He blinked once, then turned and padded away.
Just before he disappeared into the darkness, he stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.
Waiting for me.
My hands shook as I searched through the dark underbrush for my bra. I found it tossed haphazardly over a small bush, brushed off the small twigs and leaves that’d gotten caught in the delicate fabric, and put it back on.
Then I followed the wolf through the forest, walking on leaden feet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The other three were still sleeping when we got back to our makeshift camp an hour later. I grabbed my spare shirt from the pack and threw it on over the knotted, bloody fabric wrapped around my arm.
Then I slipped my boots off and crawled back into my sleeping bag, curling up into a little ball inside the tight cocoon of down-filled fabric. I pulled the top over my head, finally releasing the tears that had been held back for too long.
They tracked silently down my face in hot streaks before getting lost in the tangle of my hair, and by the time they subsided, exhaustion stepped in to take the place of grief. My eyelids fell closed, and I slipped into a dreamless sleep.
When I woke again, it was to the sound of quiet voices.
My head throbbed like it always did after a long cry, and my eyes felt puffy and
swollen. The wound on my arm had settled into a dull ache, but the pain sharpened when I shifted.
“What the hell happened to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s got fucking twigs in her hair. And that’s blood on her arm. She wasn’t wearing that shirt last night either. So what happened?”
“I said I don’t know, Jackson,” West repeated, his voice a deep whisper. Concern filled his tone, making guilt twist in my stomach.
If everything had gone according to my plan, I wouldn’t have been here when they woke up. I wouldn’t have had to see their disappointment. Their hurt. Their worry. Now I’d have to admit that I tried to sneak off without even saying goodbye, and I honestly didn’t know if they’d ever forgive me.
Slowly, I shifted in my sleeping bag. As soon as I moved, warm hands were on me, and when I opened my scratchy eyes, dark brown irises gazed down at me. West helped me sit up, his hands achingly gentle as he made sure not to brush against my injured arm.
“What happened, Scrubs? Are you okay?” He smoothed the tangled mess of hair back from my face, eyes scanning over me as he searched for other wounds.
I nodded, his tenderness piercing my heart like a knife. Jackson knelt just behind West, gnawing on his lip like he was going to take a bite out of it. New tears burned as they leaked from my eyes.
West tugged me into his arms, pulling me onto his lap with the sleeping bag still wrapped around my lower body. He pressed my head to his chest, murmuring sweet reassurances in my ear until I finally gave a shuddering breath and pushed away from him.
“I’m…” I swallowed. “I’m okay. I got hurt last night. Out in the woods. I—”
“She heard a noise.”
Rhys’s deep voice cut me off, and I blinked, craning my neck to look up at him. He stood with Noah a few feet behind West and Jackson, staring at me with inscrutable eyes.
“What kind of noise?” West turned to look up at him too.