Page 18 of Obsessed Wolf Daddy

I gaze down at Saffy, her eyes sparkling with desire and her beautiful, soft red hair dancing around her face. She feels a million miles away from those other women. They represent the kind of female I usually go for, secure in their sexuality and confident with their bodies. Saffy is so innocent, her purity evident. My wolf recognizes it and only wants her more. But am I willing to corrupt her? Deep down, I know I can't just fuck her to get her out of my system. This whole situation feels weighted.

"C-Cole?" Saffy whispers.

I cut her off by trailing my fingers down her jawline to caress the delicate curve of her neck, my touch both tender and possessive. She jerks slightly as her pulse quickens beneath my fingertips, matching the erratic beat of my own heart. I feel like a predator closing in on its prey. Is she going to pull away and save us both?

Fuck it.

Feeling a sudden surge of dominance, I grip her chin firmly and tilt her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. Our eyes lock just before my lips crash down onto hers.

The kiss is even more than I ever could have imagined. It engulfs us like a wildfire, instantly consuming us. My lips claim hers with a ferocity that surprises even me, my tongue seeking entrance, demanding a response.

Saffy yields to me without hesitation, making my wolf howl in satisfaction. Her lips are warm and pliant against mine. Her sweet taste is intoxicating, a heady mixture of innocence and desire swirling together in a sinful dance. I explore her mouth, my tongue coaxing hers. She responds with an innocence that drives me wild, her timid movements matched by the flutter of her eyelashes against my cheeks.

I can feel the pounding of her heart against my chest, the rapid rise and fall of her breaths mingling with mine. Her body molds against mine as she lifts her hands to grip the lapels of my jacket. She clings to the fabric as if holding on for dear life.

A low moan escapes from deep within me as I deepen the kiss, my hands now roaming her body, exploring every inch of her delicate frame. I trace the contours of her waist, tugging roughly at the fabric as I slip a hand beneath her blouse to feel the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

Saffy gasps at the contact, a sound that only ignites the fire within me even more. My other hand trails upward, caressing her neck before tangling in the strands of her hair. I pull gently, tilting her head back further and intensifying our connection.

For a moment, all thoughts of morality and consequences fade away. There is only this raw, primal need between us that demands to be sated. But just as I fear my control has completely gone, I'm suddenly pulled back to reality. Stepping back, I growl in frustration as I turn away from her.

Part of me doesn't want to confront the situation I've created. I pulled her into my office, in almost clear view of my staff, to what? Take advantage of her? I'm not an idiot; I can see this has the potential to be a very difficult situation. The media would have a field day. Glancing back at her, though, I'm shocked by what I see. Not only is she the sexiest vision of tousled hair and swollen lips I've ever seen, but her eyes are still shining with desire. But there's conflict there, too. And nerves, as though she's scared of what I'm about to say.

I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts and regain control over my wolf and mind. Saffy takes a step back and leans against my desk, her chest rising and falling rapidly, waiting for me to speak. I can see the wariness in her eyes, an uncertainty that mirrors my own thoughts.

"Saffy," I begin, my voice rough with a mix of desire and apprehension, "I can only apologize. This...this is dangerous. I'm sure you realize there are potential...ramifications."

Her lips part slightly as she searches my face for something, maybe an answer or a sign of what all this means. I know her wolf feels the connection, too. I've never been more sure of anything. But right now, I can't provide her with any reassurance because even I don't know where this will lead us.

I step forward and gently run my thumb over her swollen lip, tracing the curve of it before pulling away. The electricity between us crackles in the air, filling the room with a now familiar tension. It takes every ounce of self-control not to succumb to the overwhelming desire to pull her back into my arms.

"Yes, of course," Saffy whispers, her voice barely audible. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I won't say anything."

I close my eyes for a moment. I'm not asking her to be a dirty secret…or am I? “It’s undeniable how much I want you, Saffy,” I say. “But there are risks to something like this. To you and me. I'm your boss, I'm older, and I have a daughter to consider." I pause, searching for the right words. "I want you to take some time. I won't force you into anything."

She nods slowly, considering my words for a moment. "Is this real? I, er, I...this is important to me. The internship. I need anything else to be completely separate."

She lifts her eyes to look at me, and I appreciate her candor. "The project is very real, Saffy,” I say truthfully. “Nothing I do in business is a ploy. Sarah and David have the details, and they're getting started this morning. See for yourself this week. I'll give you the space to settle in here."

I know this is the right thing to do, to give her space and see if this inferno in me is still burning in a few days. I'm not a horny teenager. This is more than just physicalattraction; there's something deeper here, something that I didn't anticipate. I can wait.

But I'm not sure for how long.

Chapter 10 - Saffy

I survey the mountain of empty containers I need to pack before 9 pm. Usually, my heart might sink a little at the sheer amount of work I have to do, but I'm grateful for the distraction right now.

Besides, I love Mrs. Roberts the owner of the store. Ever since her mate passed, all her regular part-time staff have been putting extra hours in to make sure she can keep the store going. This place is the heart of the community. These boxes will soon be full of all the expiring bakery goods and collected by our local homeless charity.

This is literally the perfect distraction—thinking of others, not Cole.

The store is never busy on a Thursday night. Hence, it’s my favorite shift. I usually have time to get some work done on my laptop between customers. In fact, if I can get all this packaged quickly, I might have time to work on my project before we close at 11 pm.

As it's so quiet, I know Mrs. Roberts wouldn't mind me putting some tunes on while I sort through the stock. Soon, music is drifting through the space, Mrs. Roberts's favorite mix of soft rock and old country. It may not all be to my taste, but it fits the store perfectly. I wouldn't play anything else.

The general store is split into two, with groceries on one side and hardware on the other. In the middle is a space usually reserved for displays or craft stalls. Right now, there's an empty pallet waiting to be filled, so I grab Mrs. Roberts's list and start pulling items from the bakery cabinets.

Someone banging on the window makes me jump, and I turn to see the Jones kids standing there, waving at me. I've been babysitting them for years, and they're great kids, but Mrs. Roberts would kill them for banging on her windows. I can't helpsmiling, though, as they pull funny faces at me. I wave back but wag my finger at them, too. They're lucky she's not here today.

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