Page 72 of Sawyer

The phone barely rings once before the line clicks over. “You’re lucky I’m awake,” Sebastian grumbles.

Codes flee my head, because what I just witnessed couldn’t have occurred. The monarch himself banned everyone from living on this land, so what did we just witness?

“Ah, I see.” Sebastian heaves a sigh over the line, causing static to fill the air. “Well, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there?”

“What’s that?” I say, my mouth dry and scratchy.

“I think a vacation off the coast of Dragonstall Isles would be lovely this time of year, don’t you? Warmth and sunshine. I’ll book you a flight. Enjoy your vacation.” The line dies, leaving me to stare out the windshield at the forest and mountain range before me.

Vacation my ass.

“Those were wolves, weren’t they?” Rumor questions.

“Yeah.” I run a hand down my face. “And someone trained them.”

The vehicle rumbles to life. “I don’t want to kill any animals.” Rumor turns the SUV around far too fast.

“We may not have a choice.” Whoever is in these mountains is patrolling the grounds just like Rumor and I did at the camp all those years ago. “Rumor,” I murmur, a question on my lips that I’m not really sure how to voice.

“They weren’t there for us,” he says, following my line of thought. “They weren’t patrolling for us.”

“Then who were they searching for?” The pads of my fingers drum along the door as questions swirl around and around in my head.

“Looks like we are going to find out,” Rumor replies, as stoic as ever.

We. As in us. As a pack.

Sawyer

Warmth spreads from the entire left side of my body, outwardly heating me until it’s almost uncomfortable. Unlike last night, this warmth isn’t internal, but the kind of warmth I used to crave on cold winter nights.

The kind of warmth that makes me think about fleece blankets and hot cocoa and warm wool socks thicker than any sock has a right to be.

I burrow deep under the blankets, my body curling against the warmth. I know damn well who curls around me. His vetiver scent wraps me up in the warmest hug. He scented me all night, rubbing his body up against mine, and damn near drowned out my scent.

“I know you’re awake.” He burrows his nose in my hair and wraps a hand around my hips, yanking me back to his chest.

“You’re warm,” I murmur, unwilling to give this up. A part of me wants to experience pillow talk, those moments between a pack where we share and expose pieces of our lives.

“I need you,” he whispers. His swallow is audible in the quiet room.

Those three words send a spike of arousal through me. I shouldn’t want them again after impaling myself on Rumor, but I do. I’ll never get enough of them, and I may never have these chances again.

“Take me, Sin.” There’s a quiver to my voice, one I rarely present to the world because all my life, I’ve had to be strong, but right now, his admission blends with mine, and we just exist.

Since we are already naked, he lifts my leg and hooks it over his thigh. His cock, hard and ready, prods at my weeping entrance, and he slides easily inside me, filling me up in one slow, agonizing stroke.

This is my favorite position. It lives in the early morning hours, with slow, lazy strokes and a sleepy haze that drags the arousal into a slow burn that heats into a blazing inferno.

Sin slides his hand up my body until he grips my neck. “You’re so fucking perfect, Sawyer.” He tilts my head so he can find my lips and kisses me in that same lazy and sleepy way. His cock drags in and out, and his knot presses against my cunt—a promise that he’ll knot me and I’ll take him.

I’m not perfect though. In a just world, we wouldn’t have to pretend that we are a pack, we would be a pack, and maybe that is why I cling to this moment even more.

“I’ll never get enough of you.” He grips my neck even tighter, his next thrust a threat to knot me, but then he pulls out, his body shuddering as my walls milk him, not quite ready to let go.

You make it so hard to let go.

I moan into his mouth on the next thrust, my body growing hotter and hotter. There’s nothing in this position that allows his cock to stimulate my clit, and that’s what makes it so delicious—the promise of an orgasm that will detonate and shatter me only when he knots me.

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