Page 14

I thought I’d misheard her. Hell, I hoped I did. But as Jaslyn sits there, watching me with a look of embarrassment and defiance, the words echo in my head like a bomb going off.

She’s a virgin.

The room feels like it’s tilting, and I grip the edge of the desk to steady myself. Out of all the things she could’ve said, out of all the ways this conversation could’ve gone, this was nowhere on my list of possibilities.

“You’re serious?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend, but I can’t help it. My brain is still trying to catch up.

Jaslyn crosses her arms and glares at me, her cheeks flaming. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“It’s not—” I stop myself because, clearly, that’s the wrong thing to say. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Why? Because I’m so charming and irresistible?” Her tone drips with sarcasm, but there’s a defensive edge underneath.

“No,” I say carefully, straightening up and close her legs without thinking. “Because I figured… I don’t know, that you’d had a chance. That someone…” I trail off, realizing there’s no way to end that sentence without sounding like an idiot.

“Yeah, well, being a slave doesn’t exactly leave much room for dating. Shocking, I know.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. The heat of embarrassment is gone, replaced by something colder. Darker. “Jaslyn—”

“And before you ask,” she cuts in, her voice hard, “no, Malcolm didn’t—” She pauses, and her expression shifts into something unreadable. “But his son tried.”

The room goes dead silent. For a second, I don’t think I heard her right. But the way her jaw tightens, the way her hands clench into fists at her sides, tells me I did.

“What did you say?” My voice is low, barely more than a growl.

“Wiley,” she says flatly, like the name itself is a curse. “He thought owning me gave him the right to—” She cuts herself off and exhales sharply. “But he didn’t get anywhere. Thankfully, his dad thought I was more valuable intact.”

My vision goes red. “What do you mean, ‘He didn’t get anywhere?’ Did he touch you?”

“Gray, stop.” She holds up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not here. He can’t hurt me.”

“That’s not an answer,” I snap. The rage is building like a storm in my chest, and I have to stop myself from throwing a fist into the wall. “Did. He. Touch. You?”

“Why does it matter? It’s over. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I growl, pacing away from her. My heart is pounding, and my wolf is snarling just beneath the surface, begging to be let loose. “You’re telling me that bastard, Malcolm’s son, tried to—” I can’t even say it. The words taste like poison in my mouth.

“And he failed. His father stopped him. End of story.”

But it’s not. Not for me.

I turn on my heel and head for the door, rage coursing through me like fire.

“Where are you going?” she demands, her voice rising as I reach for the handle.

“To find them,” I say, my voice cold. “And to make sure they never try anything like that again.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Watch me,” I bark, yanking the door open and storming down the hall. The packhouse feels too small, too suffocating. I need to be out, moving, doing something to expel the fury building in my chest. My wolf is clawing at the surface, demanding action, demanding blood.

I don’t stop as I hit the front porch and leap down the stairs, heading toward the forest. The air is cold, biting at my skin, but it does nothing to cool the fire raging inside me.

“Gray!” Jaslyn calls after me, but I don’t turn around. I can hear her footsteps, quick and light, as she struggles to keep up with my longer strides. “You can’t just run off and—what? Kill them? You think that’ll fix anything?”

“It’ll fix the part where they’re still breathing.” The shadows of the trees stretch long in the fading light, and I push further into the woods, letting the primal pull of my wolf guide me.

“They’re not here!” she reminds me. “You’re charging off like some unhinged vigilante, and for what? Revenge?”

“For justice!” I whirl around to face her, throwing my hands in the air. “They hurt you, Jaslyn. They tried to take something from you, something they had no right to even touch. And they’ll pay for it.”

Her breath is coming fast, and her cheeks are flushed from the effort of keeping up with me. “Do you hear yourself right now? This isn’t about justice. This is about your guilt.”

“Maybe it is,” I admit, the confession tearing out of me like a growl. “Maybe I can’t stand the thought of them getting away with it. Of them walking around alive and untouched, after everything they did to you.”

“And you think this will make it better?” She steps closer, her voice softer but no less firm. “Killing them won’t undo the past, Gray. It won’t take away what they did to me. And it won’t take away your guilt.”

Her words cut deep, and I clench my fists at my sides, trying to fight back the storm of emotions swirling in my chest. “What am I supposed to do, then? Just let it go? Pretend it didn’t happen?”

“No. You’re supposed to stay here. With your pack. With me.”

My breathing is ragged, my wolf still thrashing against the walls of my control, but something in her tone pulls me back from the edge. She steps closer, reaching her hand out to brush against my arm. Her magic simmers under her fingertips, warm and soothing, and I feel the tension in my muscles start to ease despite myself.

“You’re here now,” she says. “I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?”

Her touch sends a jolt through me, and the fire in my chest shifts, no longer anger but something else entirely. Something that burns just as hot, but in a way that makes me want to pull her closer instead of push her away.

Her hand lingers on my arm, and I find myself leaning into her touch without thinking. Her magic ignites again, wrapping around us like a cocoon, and my wolf—once raging and restless—goes quiet, soothed by her presence.

“Jaslyn…” Her name escapes my lips, rough and unsteady. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.

She tilts her head up to meet my gaze, and the look in her eyes is my undoing. There’s no anger there, no judgment. Just something soft and vulnerable, something that strips away every wall I’ve built.

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” she murmurs, tugging me closer to her. “Just stay.”

Before I can talk myself out of it, my hands are on her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her lips crash against mine. There’s nothing gentle about the way she kisses me. It’s desperate, hungry, like we’re both trying to drown out everything else—the past, the pain, the rage—with this one moment.

Her hands tangle in my hair, and her body presses against mine, soft and warm and perfect. I back her against a nearby tree, and my lips move against hers with a ferocity I can’t control. She gasps into the kiss, and the sound sends a thrill straight through me.

I know I’m walking a dangerous line, but I can’t bring myself to stop.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together. Her green eyes are wide and full of something that looks a lot like wonder. I don’t know if it’s her magic or something else entirely, but suddenly, the only thing I want in the world is to make her feel like this all the time.

Honor be damned, I need this woman.

“Come with me,” I rasp.

She doesn’t resist as I lead her deeper into the woods. There’s a small hunting hut nearby, and when we reach it, I don’t waste a second. I push the door open, pull her inside, and capture her lips again, losing myself completely.

Every cell in my body is humming, and I feel drunk on the feeling of her against me. The heat from her touch, the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin. She’s everywhere, and it’s not enough.

My hands find the hem of her shirt, and she breaks the kiss just long enough to lift her arms and let me strip it off her. The moonlight pours in through the window, illuminating the curves of her body, and the sight nearly stops my heart.

She’s stunning.

She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. The cool night air brushes across her skin, and her nipples harden. I swallow hard, and I can feel myself straining against the confines of my pants, already desperate for her.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to keep my hands off her.

When I lean down and close my mouth around one of her nipples, her head falls back and a small moan escapes her lips. My hand comes up to cup her other breast, kneading gently, and the sound she makes sends a fresh wave of heat rushing to my groin.

She tugs at my shirt, pulling it over my head and discarding it. Her fingers explore my bare skin, tracing the contours of my chest and abs, and the sensation sends a shiver down my spine.

“Fuck, Jaslyn,” I groan.

Her hand drops lower, brushing against the bulge in my pants, and the contact is so sudden, so unexpected, that I can’t stop the groan that bubbles out of my throat. Her touch is light and teasing, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to lose myself right then and there.

She tugs at the zipper, and the sound echoes in the quiet of the room. The fabric pools around my ankles, and the sudden rush of cool air on my bare skin only heightens the feeling.

Her hand closes around me, and the heat of her skin is enough to send my head spinning. She strokes me, slowly, experimentally, and I’m struggling to keep a level head.

My hands find her hips, and my fingers hook around the waistband of her pants, pulling them down. I can see the goosebumps rippling across her skin, and she shivers against me as I tug her underwear off.

She’s naked. Vulnerable.

Mine.

I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist as I walk her back to the bedroll in the corner. Her hair spills out around her, her eyes are dark and wanting. She looks so damn gorgeous, it hurts.

When her back hits the bedroll, I follow her down, pinning her beneath me. Her arms circle around my neck, pulling me closer, and her lips find mine again, kissing me hungrily. Her legs spread, and the feeling of her wet heat against my thigh sends another shockwave through me.

She’s slick and ready, and I’m pulsing.

My lips find her neck, her collarbone. Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging into my skin. I can hear her breathing, short and ragged, and the sound only serves to fuel the fire burning in my veins.

When I slide a hand between her thighs, she bucks against me. Her hips rock into my hand, and her fingers tighten around my biceps as I work her, rubbing slow circles against her most sensitive spot.

Her legs spread wider, and the heat of her sex is scorching against my fingers. She’s writhing under me, gasping and moaning, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

I lower my head, capturing her nipple between my lips for just a second before I descend her body, dropping a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses as I go. When my mouth meets the apex of her thighs, her hips buck again, and her breathing picks up.

I don’t give her a chance to catch her breath. I dive into her, devouring her, and the taste of her is so damn intoxicating that I never want to stop. She lets out a moan, loud and uninhibited, and her hand finds the back of my head, holding me in place. Her hips roll against me, and I slip a finger inside her, curling just right. She cries out, and her thighs tense around me, and I can tell she’s close.

Her back arches off the floor. Her whole body is wound tight, her muscles coiled like a spring. She’s panting, begging, and the sounds are a drug to my senses.

“Gray… fuck…”

My tongue flicks across the spot where she needs me most, and her entire body seizes as the climax rolls through her. She gasps, her nails digging into the back of my head. I can’t help but smirk against her skin as her muscles clench and spasm around my fingers.

Her hips grind against me, drawing out the pleasure, and she rides the wave until the very last shudder. When she finally goes limp, her body spent and boneless, I rise, trailing kisses up her body. She’s drenched in sweat, her eyes are heavy-lidded, and her hair is a tangled mess.

She’s perfect.

I’m throbbing, desperate, and the sight of her—sated and spent and splayed out in front of me—doesn’t do anything to help the situation.

I’ve never wanted anyone this badly.

“Jaslyn, are you—”

“Gray,” she cuts me off, reaching up and fisting her hand in the hair at the nape of my neck. Her eyes are clear, bright, and her voice is a low growl when she speaks. “Stop asking if I’m sure and fuck me already.”

My restraint snaps, and the animal inside me comes roaring to the surface. I’m on her in a second, kissing her roughly as I line myself up with her entrance.

There’s no turning back now.

I inch inside her, and her nails dig into my shoulder. Her body is like a vice, clenching and quivering around me. She’s impossibly tight, and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep still and give her a moment to adjust.

She’s trembling, and her chest is heaving. The look on her face is a mixture of bliss and discomfort.

“You okay?” I manage, the words coming out strangled.

“Just move,” she rasps, rocking her hips.

I oblige, sliding deeper inside her, and her legs wrap around my waist, urging me forward. There’s no stopping the groan that slips out as I sink into her. She’s like velvet, so warm and slick and soft, and she’s surrounding me, enveloping me, and I never want this feeling to end.

I can feel her body adjusting, getting used to the intrusion. Slowly, the tension eases, and she starts rocking into me. Her hands roam my body, her touch greedy and hungry. I can feel her magic buzzing between us, wrapping around us like a shield, and it’s an indescribable feeling, being buried inside her and surrounded by her at the same time.

She moves against me, and her breathing turns ragged again. My mouth finds her neck as her nails scrape along my back. The feeling is electric. Every inch of my body is humming with energy.

I want to savor this. I want to draw it out and make it last. But the way she’s grinding against me, the way her walls are squeezing and pulsing, is too much.

The dam breaks, and I lose myself in her, pounding into her with wild abandon. Our bodies are tangled together, moving in perfect sync. Her moans mingle with mine in the quiet room.

She’s panting, her body shaking, and the look on her face is pure ecstasy. Her fingers twist in the bedroll, and her breathing turns shallow and quick. She’s close again, and I can feel the pressure building inside me, the pleasure mounting like a storm.

I can’t hold back any longer.

I thrust into her, fast and deep, and she arches against me, crying out as another climax surges through her. The sound, the feeling, is enough to send me over the edge. My release barrels through me, making my vision blur, and I can’t help but let out a primal, animalistic roar as I bury myself inside her.

My cock pulses. She clenches around me, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure. It feels like hours, days, lifetimes before we come down from the high, and when I finally collapse next to her, both of us are panting and shaking.

I pull her against me, and she burrows into my side, nestling her head in the crook of my shoulder. She smells like sweat and sex, and her skin is slick and flushed. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks are pink, and her lips are curled into a satisfied smile.

In that moment, with her pressed against me, I feel like a king.