Page 22 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

I shove my hands in my pockets as I cross the grounds towards the neutral section of the forest. My fingers brush against the crumpled note I shoved in there as soon as I found it on my desk at The Black Door.

Meet me in my tent.

That’s all it said, written in perfect swirling calligraphy.

The only reason I knew it was from Sarina was the lingering honeysuckle scent embedded into the fibers. And because she left the sweater she stole on Christmas Eve right next to it.

That night was the last time we saw each other aside from quick glimpses here and there, and now it’s spring.

Between my work at the club and my preparations for becoming the official delta of Crescent Lake in a few nights, and her work helping Alpha Benjamin hunt down the last holdouts from his dad’s reign, there’s been no time to sneak away to be with her.

Something seemed to shift between us after that night.

I could have pushed to make it happen, to bring her to me or make my way to her, but while she agreed to be my sub, we didn’t agree to anything deeper than that. There is a fine line between being dominant and being controlling, and I refuse to cross it.

That doesn’t mean I’m not obsessed with her. I will burn the world down to its core to find her when the time comes. I already promised her that. I will do whatever it takes to hold her in my arms once more, no matter how long it takes.

And if she leaves me again? I’ll do it all over so I can have her, as many times as I have to until she realizes there’s no use in leaving me behind.

But being her Dom is more than dominating her body and pleasure when we’re together. It’s about respecting her and her boundaries. I can’t teach her the correct dynamic if I’m acting in a way unbecoming of a Dom.

Meet me in my tent.

I know why she wants to see me tonight. I feel it in my bones.

It’s the moment I’ve been dreading. The moment that twists my stomach into knots and makes the brutal, primal part of me rage against the chains I use to keep it locked up tight inside me whenever I think of it happening.

She’s leaving.

I don’t need words written on a strip of paper to tell me that, and I would bet everything I have—everything I am—on it.

I considered staying away, contemplated hiding in my new apartment in the packhouse for the entire night to avoid the inevitable, but my feet carried me down the stairs, out the back door, and across the grounds before I realized what I was doing.

Now, I find myself in the clearing where her pack’s stayed the entire time they’ve been in the area. The tents are closed up tight, with no trace of her or any of her friends—not even embers glow in the fire pit. It’s cold, empty, and foreboding.

A shudder runs through me, and I lock my eyes on my destination: the dark blue tent set slightly apart from the rest.

Sarina’s tent.

I reach for the flap, and as soon as I do, Sarina’s voice floats towards me from the edge of the clearing.

“We meet again, Pretty Boy.”

I whip my head around and find her smiling teasingly at me, arms crossed over her black T-shirt, her red choker wrapped around her throat.

The ache in my gut grows. She stands there with all the confidence in the world projected to everyone, but in her eyes, I see it.

She holds the same anguish within them that I hold in my soul.

“Hello, Little Rogue.” I hold the flap open for her, smirking as she stalks around me and enters the tent.

“I’ve told you countless times—I’m not a rogue.”

“And I’ve told you countless times that I’m not pretty. Yet here we are, still calling each other by the nicknames we claim we hate,” I point out, removing my shoes and socks so I don’t track dirt inside.

The tent flap falls closed behind me as I follow her. She spins to face me, and I step closer, cupping her face in my hand.

“Where have you been?” I caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

She gestures around us at the tent. “I’ve been right here, waiting for you.”

Leave it to Sarina to evade my question with a joke.

I tug on her earlobe before wrapping my hand around her neck, on top of her red collar. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

She swallows as my thumb strokes her throat, eyelids fluttering briefly. “I’ve been busy.” She peers at me through her lashes, her defiant spark diminishing. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” I reassure her, placing my other hand around her neck as well. “I’m not mad. I’ve been busy too.”

I missed you. The words linger on the tip of my tongue.

I dare not utter them, but my need for her continues to grow even with our distance.

Or maybe because of the distance. She’s always on my mind.

There is a constant awareness of her existence that is almost as tangible as her body beneath my hands.

I press our foreheads together, and my nose brushes hers. We both breathe in and out, eyes closing. My mouth hovers over hers, warmth from her parted lips fanning my face, but neither of us closes the gap to make the first move.

“I missed you.” Sarina tilts her head higher so our lips brush with her words, vocalizing the confession I didn’t dare make.

My throat closes up. I squeeze my eyes tighter, my grip on her growing fiercer, but I don’t reply.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she admits, her voice softening.

“I wasn’t going to, but I can’t seem to stay away.”

I lower my mouth to hers, savoring the feel of her full lips against mine. Her arms drape around my neck, and I tug her into me by her waist until she’s almost pressed against my body.

Almost . But not quite .

She fights my hold, trying to close the distance between us, but I don’t let her. Not yet. Not until I want it.

Maybe I’ll make her beg for it.

She whimpers and slides her fingertips to the back of my neck, right at the top of my spine, playing with my hair and teasing my skin. Goosebumps travel across my body, and I stifle a shudder and a groan.

“What are you doing to me, Sarina?” I ask against her mouth.

“I think I’m kissing you,” she answers, voice breathy and lips twitching with a silent laugh as her kisses travel from my mouth to my jaw and neck.

“Sarina…” My hands tighten around her waist, and I groan as she teases my neck, sending electricity shooting through my veins. “Don’t go,” I blurt before I can stop myself.

She freezes then moves away from my neck to gaze at me.

Goddess, those doe eyes and those plush, pouty lips may be my undoing.

“I have to, Sebby,” she whispers.

I’ll never admit it to anyone, but that name from her mouth has me ready to fall to my knees in front of her.

“My place isn’t here. My place is out there, helping others. Doing what I can while I can,” she says.

“You could stay, though,” I argue. “I’m sure Wes and Haven would let you join the pack. You could be a member of Crescent Lake and use a transport stone to do your work with your friends.”

Her jaw clenches. “You promised,” she reminds me, voice as soft as the wind through the trees. “You promised you wouldn’t beg me to stay.”

My chest heaves as I stare into her unwavering, shining eyes. The darkness in me rears its head at her reminder, and every muscle in my body tenses with the effort to hold it at bay.

“Please stay,” I choke out.

Her head shakes softly. “I can’t, Sebastian.”

Something in me snaps at that.

I can’t let her go, not like this. Not with so much left unsaid and unfinished between us .

I want to tie her up and lock her away to stop her from leaving, but that would only break her. My little rogue needs to stay the way she is—wild and free and full of life. Her submission to me should be voluntary, not forced.

I slam my lips down onto hers and finally tug her tight little body flush against mine.

I wrap myself around her, my arms the ropes I wish I could use to keep her with me forever.

My body is an anchor keeping her hidden in the depths of the sea, protected from the dangers she’ll face without me at her side.

“I need you, Sarina.” I pulse my hips forward to let her feel how intensely I desire her. “I need all of you.”

Her heart stutters, breath quickening, and with each of her inhales and exhales, her full breasts rub against my chest. They feel like heaven, but it’s not enough. I need her naked, her nipples grazing my bare skin.

“I thought you wanted to wait until you found me again? I thought that was my punishment?”

“It was,” I concede. “But not if it means never knowing what it’s like to be with you.

I’m punishing myself just as much as I’m punishing you by leaving everything like this between us.

I can’t let you go without taking this step.

I want—” I swallow. “I want to know how your lips really feel around my dick instead of pretending it’s them when I use my hand.

I want to know what it’s like to be buried to the hilt inside your pussy. ”

“Sebastian…” she moans, her body writhing against mine as she tries to clench her thighs together to hide her desire from me.

But it’s too late. Her arousal already fills my nostrils. It’s heady and sweet, tinted with her natural honeysuckle scent. My mouth waters, and my normally quiet lycan perks up, drawn to her presence.

“Do you like that idea, Little Rogue?” I move my hand to her throat.

She hums, eyes floating closed.

“Words, Baby Girl,” I order, squeezing her neck slightly.

“I-I like that idea.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I want you, Sebby. All of you.”

I smile. “Good girl.”

She shudders and whimpers at my praise, no longer trying to hide her reactions from me .

“I’m going to give you all of me, Little Rogue.

” I lean over her, letting my lips dance right above hers.

“But before you get to touch me and before you get to come, I’m going to punish you for leaving me.

I’m going to tie you up and do whatever I want to you until you’re begging me to let you finish. Do you understand?”

She nods eagerly. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” I prod.

“Yes, Sir.”