Page 90 of Wolf's Reckoning
Then his thigh slipped between mine. A hiss escaped me as he pressed upward, and delicious heat filled my body at the contact.
“Rowen,” he rasped, forehead pressed to mine, eyes locked on mine as I pushed down against him.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I should have.
His hand slid down my side, slow and claiming, fingers tightening around the curve of my ass before pulling me flush against the hard line of his cock. I gasped, the pressure sparking deep in my belly as he ground against me—deliberate, punishing, perfect. His other hand moved with ruthless precision, unfastening my pants, dragging them low enough for cool air to kiss my thighs before his hands covered them—hot, rough, and unbearably skilled. He cupped my pussy like it belonged to him, then strokedthrough the slickness he found there, dragging a moan from my throat as one finger slid deep inside me.
I clung to his shoulders as he pushed in a second finger, nails biting into muscle, chasing the friction as we moved together—our rhythm instinctive, filthy, maddening. Every breath was a gasp. Every thrust of his hand sent pleasure tearing through me, high and sharp, building toward that edge I could already feel trembling beneath me.
So close. So close I could taste it as I rode his hand, chasing my release.
And then—I froze.
My heart thudded in my ears.
What the hell was I doing?
His breath hitched. And slowly, painfully, he pulled back. We stared at each other. Breathing like we’d run miles. His hands still on me. My body still trembling.
“Shit,” I said, voice barely a whisper. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No,” he agreed, eyes dark and wild. “But now it has.”
He stepped back first. Hand withdrawing slowly, trailing over my body. He let me go. Just like that. I hated how cold I felt without him.
“I’ll see you at home,” he said—home, like we’d already built one together—and turned to leave, jaw clenched, body tense.
I didn’t stop him this time.
But my fingers were still curled like they were holding onto him, and my heart was still racing like it was running toward something I couldn’t name.
That couldn’t happen again. Ever.
I walked the long way back to the house, but thepacklands were surprisinglyfulltonight. Was it because of Wolfe in general or what happened earlier?
I could still feel every eye on me, every conversation that didn’tquitecontinue once I passed.
Adair was up ahead and I made my way to her. She broke off her conversation and smiled at me in welcome.
“Why does it feel like everyone’s talking about me?”
“Probably because they are.”
I blinked. “What?”
She grinned at me. “You and Wolfe.”
My stomach dropped.
Adair gave me a sweet, too-innocent smile. “Apparently, pine trees carry sound really,reallywell.”
I blinked again, leaning forward to whisper at her. “No onesaw?—”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said lightly. “They may haveheard.” She made a not-so-subtle gesture to sniff me. “You definitely smell like him.”
Someone walking nearby coughed. The kind of cough that carried snickering undertones. Further down the path, two older she-wolves were whispering behind their hands andnot even pretendingit wasn’t about me.
My ears burned.
