Page 6 of Kept (Mating Run #4)

Eli knew the stories. Everyone did. Wolves could hear your pulse stutter from across a room. They could smell arousal like rain, track fear like blood. A growl that put you on your knees. A bite that marked. A knot that locked you full. Possessive of what was theirs.

When Kade had first stepped into the doorway, those rumors rose like a tide. Eli’s first thought was treasonous: let it all be true.

Outside, somewhere far—then not far—a howl rolled up the street.

Eli went rigid, every line of him tight.

Kade crossed to the window. Big hands tested each latch—soft clicks, metal on metal. The pads of his fingers were rough; Eli could imagine the rasp of them, the way those calluses would feel on softer skin.

“Fucking idiots,” was all Kade said, low enough the window heard it more than Eli.

The cut of it made Eli flinch—then settle. Not at me. Right.

Kade’s back stayed to him. Atlas shoulders under a thin shirt, neck muscles drawing tight. He scented the air, nostrils flaring. The line of his waistband caught the light when he shifted.

So did the shape in front of it. Unmistakable. Bold beneath dark fabric.

He was hard.

It should have scared Eli. It didn’t. Heat flashed low and clean through him.

Kade turned. Gold eyes found him and held. His pupils ate the room. Hunger lived there, yes, but something steadier too. “You’re shaking.”

Eli hadn’t noticed until then. Not just his hands—all of him. A fine, high tremor like a guitar string tuned too tight. He tried to stop it. It sang instead. Under the fear, under the habit of being small, something else burned.

Desire. The word he’d made himself swallow for years. Don’t look. Don’t linger. Don’t get caught wanting. Scott had laughed it out of him and smacked the rest into hiding. Be louder. Be meaner.

Be anything but who you are, because that's not good enough.

Kade walked toward him. Slow. Silent. He stopped when his thighs met the mattress. Those eyes dipped once, hungry, then his hand came up.

He didn’t grab. He waited. His fingers curled like they knew exactly how to hold and exactly how to break—and were waiting on a yes.

Eli froze. Then tipped his face into the heat.

Skin on skin. A rasp of callus along his jaw. It burned and steadied at once. Kade’s hand smelled faintly of cedar and machine oil and the sweet-gone-sour tang of sweat dried on cotton.

“You’re cold,” Kade said. He took Eli’s hands, those warm palms closing around cold fingers.

Eli's breath left him in a rush. Not because of the strength. Because of the care. Men like this weren’t gentle in Eli’s world. Scott had made everything a weapon—volume, swagger, cruelty. Kade didn’t fit.

No cruelty in these hands. Not an ounce.

He held Eli like something worth caring for, not something flawed.

Another howl, closer this time. Eli flinched hard, but Kade didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to bring Eli’s hands to his chest, to the heat of him. The beat under Eli’s palm was a steadying hammer.

Eli’s eyes dropped because he couldn’t not. Kade was fully hard now, thick and visible even through soft, dark fabric, a heavy press angled toward the waistband of his shorts. No shame. No hiding it.

So close…

God.

Eli’s blood surged. He should really move. He should speak, say something about being tired or needing sleep, or thank Kade for not tossing him out to be taken by feral werewolves.

But Kade's hands were so warm.

And he was sick of hiding.

He wanted everything that Kade had said to be true.

What came out—unbidden and too quiet to believe—was a whisper: “Warm me up.”

Kade stilled. A low sound rumbled through the back of his throat—more breath than growl—but it made Eli’s whole spinal cord lock up.

He stepped forward again and began to unbutton Eli’s shirt. Not fast.

One. The scrape of thread through cotton. Two…

Eli forgot how to breathe right. Cool air slid under the fabric as Kade stripped him.

The next touch slid slowly against him, Kade's palms running down Eli’s ribs, mapping his shape. Learning him by hand.

“So thin,” he murmured. Not judgment. Not pity. Possessiveness?

Eli swallowed hard. His cock pulsed in his jeans, a helpless push forward.

Kade noticed. Of course he did. His thumb skimmed the soft hollow under Eli’s ribs, sending a shiver up his spine. The breath that escaped Eli had more voice than he meant to give it. Almost a moan.

“Don’t make sounds like that,” Kade rasped, voice rough, strained, broken with want. “Not tonight. I won’t be able to hold back.”

Eli froze, heart hammering. He’d never heard anything like that directed at him. Heat roared through his chest, sharp and impossible to ignore. This is a bad idea. Totally, completely wrong. And yet… the thought of it made him shiver in all the right ways.

He let his voice slip, barely a whisper, tremulous and daring. “Then… don’t.”

The word hung between them, fragile and combustible.

Kade’s chest vibrated against Eli’s palms, a growl crawling up his throat, feral and raw.

Eli’s pulse leapt at the sound, his body responding without thought.

He tipped his hips up, pressing into the weight leaning over him, encouraging, inviting—testing the wolf’s restraint, daring him to break.

Kade’s control cracked.

Before Eli could think better of it, Kade pinned him down to the bed, hands heavy on his wrists, chest pressing into his, weight and scent and heat overwhelming. Eli’s breath hitched, caught between fear and ecstasy.

Eli gasped, letting the words, the grip, the danger wash over him. His hands twisted under Kade’s, pressing closer, urging, craving. Yes. Do it. Take me. I don’t care if it’s supposed to be wrong.

Kade’s teeth grazed the hollow of his throat, and Eli arched instinctively into it. His back lifted, hips rising, body tracking every inch of Kade’s intent. Heat and pressure, scent and growl, collided.

Kade’s mouth traced the length of Eli’s neck in slow, deliberate arcs, teeth grazing, tongue dragging, lips pressing down like silent promises. Not kisses. Not tenderness. Claiming. Marking. Mapping.

A sharper bite caught at the hollow just below his jaw.

Eli choked on a sound he didn’t know he had in him—half plea, half inhale.

His head tipped, almost instinctively, leaning into the sensation, begging for more.

Please . He was dizzy with the rush of being wanted like this, wanted so completely that it made him ache.

Kade’s hand drifted lower, knuckles brushing over ribs and sternum, learning the rise and fall of him, memorizing the planes of his body. Eli froze, caught between instinct and instinctual surrender.

But Kade's hand didn’t stop. It slid past his belly, over the waistband of his jeans.

Eli’s hips lifted on reflex, grinding against Kade’s hand through the denim, betraying the hard swell of his cock.

Kade’s palm pressed through denim with deliberate weight, firm, unhurried, a quiet command.

Eli exhaled, a sound he had no right to make, half sob, half moan, letting it escape anyway.

His head fell back, neck bare, fingers curling into the sheets as though they could anchor him against the wild pull of the wolf above him.

The sound Kade made in answer was low, pleased, a rumble that vibrated through Eli’s body. Breath ghosted along his ear, warm, insistent. His voice, just low enough, didn’t need to rise to take him apart.

“Look at you,” Kade murmured, gold eyes burning into him. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Eli’s eyes squeezed shut. He shouldn’t let it matter. Praise had always come with a hook. But his cock throbbed relentlessly at the words, stupid and honest and impossible to deny. The approval hit deep in his chest like a stamp, marking him in a way no one ever had.

He wanted it—the touch, the heat, the full weight of Kade’s presence—so badly it hurt to breathe.

Kade’s hand moved again, deliberate and steady, working over him with slow, firm pressure. The denim was frustrating, too much in the way yet not enough, each movement stoking the ache between Eli’s legs.

He couldn’t stay still. His hips lifted instinctively, matching Kade’s hands, responding to the control he’d longed for without realizing it. His hands grasped at the sheets, trying to find something solid, anything to hold onto besides the heat and dominance pressing into him.

A low, ragged noise crawled out of Eli’s throat when Kade pressed a little harder. Heat, weight, pressure—gift after gift. Kade’s body pressed down over him, heavy and unyielding, pressing his hardness into Eli’s hip as he pinned him to the bed.

The wolf’s quiet growl vibrated at his ear, feral and claiming, and Eli trembled, gasping, every nerve alive. He was strung tight, desperate, his cock hard and pulsing against the denim, aching under the weight of Kade pressing into him.

His legs spread on their own, opening for Kade. Thighs shook as they framed his hips, needy.

Kade’s breathing shifted, tight and controlled, the restraint straining at the edges. His hands caught Eli’s shirt and paused. His mouth moved slightly, eyes gold and feral. Ask. Obey. Both.

“All the way off,” Kade rumbled. No hesitation. Absolute.

Eli lifted his arms automatically. Not a command. An invitation he had been aching to accept.

The shirt slid up, over chest, over arms, over his head.

By the time it left his fingers, they shook.

Cool air hit his bare skin, and Kade’s hardness pressed into him, a solid, dangerous weight he could feel through every nerve.

The world shrank to breath, heartbeat, and Kade’s heat pressing down over him.

Kade’s eyes roamed over him, slow, reverent, taking in every line: shoulders, ribs, chest, the dip at his hipbones, the taut, straining length beneath his hand. Kade looked like something starving that had decided to savor him—carefully, deliberately.

Kade leaned. His mouth found the soft bite of muscle at the base of Eli’s throat again and pressed a slow, open kiss there. His hand flattened over Eli’s sternum, heavy.

“Better,” Kade murmured in warm approval. His thumb stroked once over Eli’s nipple. The tiny bud tightened painfully fast. Eli flinched and then leaned into it, heat rushing up his neck.

“Eyes on me,” Kade added, and Eli dragged his gaze up.

Gold. Close. The power of being looked at like that knocked him breathless.

Kade’s mouth curved, a small, feral thing that wasn’t quite a smile.

He traced the path his eyes had taken with his fingertips—collarbone, sternum, rib.

His hands learned the edges, the hollows, the places where skin caught on bone.

Kade’s hands went lower. Not rushed. Not slow. Decisive. He palmed Eli through denim again, firmer this time, then eased off, testing what would make Eli chase. Eli arched up before he knew he was doing it.

“Say it,” Kade murmured against his pulse, voice a scrape of heat. Not what. Not how. The shape of the word told Eli both.

Eli’s throat worked. His instinct skittered. Don’t beg. Don’t be that boy. Don’t?—

“More,” he whispered. Shame and need mixed like smoke. He felt it burn. He breathed it out anyway. “Please.”

The sound Kade made sounded feral.

And Eli felt the same way.