Page 125 of Hunted to Be Mine

Through the haze, I watched him finish himself, hand moving in quick, efficient strokes. A vein stood out in his neck as he fought to keep silent. The sight of a controlled, dangerous man coming apart because of me was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

“Let me see you come apart,” I said to him.

His restraint snapped. With a rough groan, he spilled over his fist, heat pulsing across his skin. The sight pulled a second, smaller climax from me, a shiver that left me breathless.

We didn’t move for a long beat, both caught in aftershocks. Then Wolfe rose, tucked himself away, and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned with a warm, damp cloth and cleaned me with the same careful attention as before.

“That was…” Words failed.

“Yes.” No explanation needed.

He settled me under the covers, then shed his clothes and slipped in beside me. I curled against him, my good arm draped across his chest, my head tucked into his shoulder.

“Don’t disappear on me again,” I murmured, sleep pulling at me.

His arms tightened. “Never by choice.”

I sank into the mattress and into his warmth. For once, I didn’t fight it. My body needed rest. The steady rhythm of his breathing felt like the only solid thing in a world that wouldn’t stop shifting.

I let myself hover between waking and dreams. No analysis, no plans, no next steps. Just this bed. This man. For the first time in days, I let go.

Sleep had almost taken me when a sound sliced the quiet. Sharp. Insistent.

A phone ringing.

I blinked, disoriented, as Wolfe shifted carefully. The mattress lifted under his weight, and cold crept into the space he vacated. Through half-closed eyes, I watched him reach for the side table where the burner vibrated.

“Mmm, who is it?” I mumbled, pushing up on my good elbow. The fog made everything feel distant.

He glanced at me, expression unreadable in the dim. “Unknown.”

“Put it on speaker.” The haze burned away. “Could be Mattie or Damon. They’re the only ones with the number.”

He nodded, tapped a button. “Yes?”

A scream tore through the speaker—high, female, terrified. Ice flooded my veins. I knew that voice.

“Mattie?” I was fully awake now, adrenaline slamming through me.

Her voice followed, hoarse, shredded. “Please, don’t… I don’t know anything! I swear I don’t—”

Another scream cut her off, raw and awful.

“Mattie!” I lurched upright despite the stab under my ribs. “Mattie, where are you?”

Silence. Heavy breathing. Then another voice.

“I knew you were up to something at the hospital.”

Wolfe went rigid. His knuckles whitened around the phone.

“Blackout,” I said. The name fell like a curse.

“Your performance was impressive,” Blackout continued, tone flat as Mattie whimpered in the background. “But flawed. I couldn’t track you directly, so I went for the next best thing.”

Mattie cried out again, muffled, as if someone had covered her mouth.

I met Wolfe’s eyes. The softness was gone. In its place was something cold and lethal. The hunter was back.