Page 12 of Malcolm (The Sunburst Pack #1)

“Since when do you back down from a challenge, Larissa?” Malcolm asked.

His taunt ignited that competitive spark within her. “I never back down.”

Before she could overthink it, Larissa closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to Malcolm’s.

The first brush of his lips against hers sent sparks racing down Larissa’s body to ignite a fire deep in her core as her analytical mind struggled to process the overwhelming sensations.

His mouth was firm yet unexpectedly gentle, a silent question rather than the forceful claiming she’d imagined in her most secret fantasies.

Larissa inhaled sharply, catching Malcolm’s unique scent—desert wind, wild berries warmed by summer storms, pine needles crushed underfoot, and something essentially, undeniably Malcolm. The scent made her wolf stir restlessly beneath her skin, urging her closer.

Her analytical mind short-circuited, overwhelmed by sensation.

Larissa’s hands found their way to Malcolm’s broad shoulders, her fingers tracing the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt.

The heat of his skin seemed to burn through the thin fabric, igniting a trail of fire everywhere they touched.

His powerful arms encircled her waist, drawing her closer until she could feel every inch of his hardness pressed against her.

I should stop this , Larissa thought hazily. It complicated everything—pack dynamics, their rivalry, her plans to take over as alpha.

But her body had other ideas, melting against Malcolm’s solid frame.

“Damn, you feel good,” Malcolm growled against her lips.

Larissa couldn’t formulate a witty response, too caught up in the taste and feel of him. For once, she allowed herself to simply experience the moment rather than analyze it.

A soft gasp escaped her as his tongue traced the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. Larissa yielded to him willingly, parting her lips as all thoughts of rivalry and pack politics melted away like morning mist. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting, exploring.

The flavor of him—sharp and sweet and utterly addictive—made her head spin. Larissa’s usual strategic thinking faltered, overwhelmed by the intensity of the kiss. She responded with a passion that surprised even her, years of suppressed attraction finally breaking free.

She murmured between kisses, barely recognizing her own voice, husky with need. “This is…”

“Amazing? Mind-blowing? About damn time?” he supplied with a low chuckle that vibrated against her chest.

Larissa pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her breath coming in short pants. “Unexpected,” she finished, struggling to regain her composure. “And potentially problematic for pack dynamics.”

Malcolm’s eyes, dark with desire, searched her face. “Always the tactician,” he said. “Can’t you just enjoy the moment without overanalyzing it?”

“I…,” Larissa began but found herself at a loss for words—a rarity for her. The rational part of her mind screamed caution, but her body hummed with a primal need that defied logic.

And as Malcolm’s hands slid up her back, one tangling in her hair while the other pressed her more firmly against him, she allowed instinct to override strategy. The touch of his palm seared through her thin shirt, branding her skin.

A low moan vibrated in her throat as Malcolm’s movements became more confident, more demanding.

Larissa’s fingers clutched at his broad shoulders, marveling at the solid strength beneath her hands.

She’d always appreciated his physical prowess from afar, but experiencing it firsthand was altogether different.

Her hands slid up to tangle in his short hair, holding him to her as if he might disappear should she let go.

Larissa’s world narrowed to the points where their bodies touched, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

The pack, their rivalry, all of it faded away like mist in the morning sun.

There was only Malcolm’s strong arms encircling her, his warm mouth moving against hers, the solid wall of his chest pressed to her softer curves.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Larissa gave him a dazed glance. Her lips tingled pleasantly, and she could still taste Malcolm on her tongue—a lingering sweetness that made her want to drag him back down for another kiss.

She forced her eyes open, not remembering when she’d closed them, to find Malcolm staring down at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

Larissa’s strategic mind tried to reassert itself, to remind her of all the reasons this was a monumentally bad idea.

But those thoughts seemed distant and unimportant compared to the solid reality of Malcolm’s arms around her and the lingering taste of his kiss on her lips.

Larissa’s breath caught in her throat. Every point of contact between them sent sparks of sensation racing along her nerves. Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin, urging her to claim, to mark, to make this powerful male hers.

“This changes everything,” she murmured, even as her fingers traced the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. “The pack dynamics, our positions—”

Malcolm silenced her with another searing kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes blazed with determination. “To hell with pack politics. Right now, it’s just you and me, Larissa.”

The raw honesty in his voice made her tremble. Her analytical mind struggled to process the situation, to find some strategic advantage or pitfall. But for once, Larissa had no carefully crafted plan.

“I can’t think straight when you’re this close,” she said, surprising herself with her candor.

A slow, predatory smile spread across Malcolm’s face. “Good,” he said, leaning in to nuzzle the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Maybe you’ll stop overthinking things for once.”

Larissa’s eyes fluttered closed as Malcolm’s lips traced a burning path down her neck. Her body hummed with awareness, every nerve ending singing from his touch. The wolf within her paced restlessly, wanting more—wanting everything this man could give her.

The last shreds of Larissa’s self-control began to unravel.

She knew there were a hundred reasons this was a terrible idea, but in this moment, none of them seemed to matter.

All that existed was Malcolm’s strong arms around her, his scent filling her lungs, and the promise of more burning in his eyes.

Malcolm drew back slightly, though his arms remained around her.

His breath came in ragged pants that matched her own, and the look in his eyes—desire warring with tenderness—made her heart skip.

Their connection, the bond Larissa was only barely beginning to realize had always existed between them, hummed with new awareness, alive with possibilities she’d spent years denying.

She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her palm where it rested on his chest. The simple contact sent tingles through her fingers, drawing her attention to every place their bodies touched.

Part of her wanted to chase that feeling, to lose herself completely in the passion building between them. But as the fog of desire slowly cleared from her mind, reality came crashing back.

The pack needed strong, focused leadership—not an alpha distracted by her own tangled emotions.

She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let her judgment be clouded by desire.

The memory of Vincent’s reign was still too fresh, the pack’s wounds still too raw.

They couldn’t afford any mistakes or divided loyalties.

And yet, even as she formed these rational arguments, her body yearned to close the small distance between them, to taste Malcolm’s lips again.

Her analytical mind warred with her wolf’s instincts, leaving her frozen in indecision.

An awkward silence fell between them.

Larissa’s mind was reeling. She’d just kissed Malcolm. Her rival. The man she was competing against for leadership of the pack. And worse… She wanted to do it again.

“We should finish the patrol,” Malcolm said finally.

“Right. The patrol.”

They resumed their route, but the easy camaraderie from earlier was gone, replaced by a tense silence. Larissa’s thoughts were in turmoil. What did this mean for their rivalry? For the pack? For her chances at becoming alpha?

As they neared the end of their patrol route, Larissa tried to think of something to say—but she couldn’t.

In the end, she simply walked home, her mind racing. The memory of the kiss played on repeat in her head, the feel of Malcolm’s lips on hers, his strong arms around her.

She touched her fingers to her lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss.

What had she gotten herself into?

The diplomatic challenge was coming up, the final test to determine who would lead the pack. Larissa had been so sure of herself, so confident in her abilities. But now… Now everything was complicated.

She thought of Malcolm’s insights during their patrol, of the passion in his kiss.

He wasn’t just a rival anymore.

He was…more.

And that terrified her.