Page 33 of The Wolf

What the devil was he doing?

He was better than this.

You’re better than your father.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the woman’s ear, even as he inhaled again. That delicate, ginger scent on her skin was bloody delicious. Enticing. It was all he wanted.

His primal side begged him to pull her farther into his embrace and … his mouth watered at the thought of biting her. Of claiming his mate. How long had he been waiting for this?

She’s not yours. You’ve no right to a mate.

“Give me a moment,” he uttered. Brine squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to get control of his body. He took a shallow breath through his mouth to try to filter out her pheromones, but his eyes snapped open and he scowled down at her pale smooth neck even as he drew in a deeper breath. Something was muting her scent. He sniffed again and his mate stiffened further in his arms.

His nose wrinkled. Did she have perfume on? He couldn’t detect any but—

A small pinch on the inside of his wrist dragged Brine out of his stupor and he cursed again as his arms refused to unwrap from the silent maiden in his embrace. He needed to think with his head, not his body. This was nothing more than a chemical reaction.

If only Pyre could see you now.

“I’m sorry,” Brine mumbled again, inhaling a final time to try to get a sense of the woman’s emotions. He couldn’t get anything. Other than pinching his wrist, the woman wasn’t shaking or screaming or fighting back. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. His jaw clenched as Brine eased away from her an inch or two. “I swear it.”

A long moment of silence stretched out between them.

Brine focused on his breathing and fought to match his to the woman. Which was difficult even with her turned around. The way her hair draped over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck, was more than Brine could bear.

It was utterly disgraceful. It wasn’t like he was a pup who’d just come into maturity. He’d even come across other potential mates in the last few years, but none of them had affected him this way.

The woman shifted slightly and whispered, “Can I turn around?”

He nodded and loosened his hold, dragging his hands along her sides before he took a small step back. Even that was painful. He could do this. It was only attraction. It was only—

Slowly she turned around, and all thought fled.

She. Was. Stunning.

Heat rushed through his body and he tried to take a step, but her hand on his chest stopped him from advancing. Brine placed his large hand over her pale, freckled one and focused on grounding himself. It was like silk.

He scanned her heart-shaped face and full lips.

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, blinking her big, deep blue eyes at him as she pushed a lock of wispy golden-blond hair from her face. There was something familiar about her.

“No.”

She nodded and frowned slightly, causing him to notice a small scar on her left cheek. On another female it may have marred her looks, but on her—his woman—it only made her fiercer.

Another rush of attraction burned through him, urging him to crowd her against the tree once again so he could feel all her delightful curves pressed against his own body.

Get yourself together.

“Who … are you?” Brine managed to ask, not moving an inch.

Her brows furrowed and she pursed her lips. Once again he was struck with the notion that he knew her from somewhere. Although if that were the case, he was sure he’d never forget such a sensual creature.

He blanched as he realized he’d leaned into her touch and had reached out to touch her face. Brine exhaled heavily and forced himself to drop his hand, embarrassment heating his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered a third time. “I’m having a hard time breaking away.”

“Such is the plight of being Talagan, or so I’m told,” she said.

---