Page 10 of Wedding for My Werewolf (Fairhaven Falls #7)

CHAPTER 10

R obin replayed the kiss over and over during the silent drive back to town. The first kiss in the truck had been nothing compared to the explosion of sensation the second time. She knew he’d done it for show but it had felt real. He’d been the one to draw away—she’d have happily stood there kissing him forever.

Her face heated as she remembered the hard press of his body against hers. She’d felt him growing aroused, his cock straining against his jeans. She hadn’t even tried to pull away.

“Who was watching us?” she asked finally.

“Lila. I hoped kissing you would help convince her that we’re mates.”

“Oh. Right. Good thinking.”

Her voice sounded odd even in her own ears and he sighed, and pulled over.

“Robin.” His voice was low, rough. His fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face up until she had to look at him. His golden eyes glowed with an intensity that made her breath catch. “I wanted to kiss you.”

Her heart stuttered. “You… you did?”

“Very much.” His thumb traced along her jawline, leaving tingles in its wake. “But I won’t do it again unless you want me to.”

“I… I…”

He seemed to understand her inability to respond, because he cupped her cheek again, then resumed driving.

“I’ll drop you off at Garrick’s.”

“You don’t have?—”

“I’m dropping you off,” he said firmly. “Is it that hard to let someone do something for you?”

She winced at the question, but he didn’t press her.

When they arrived at Garrick’s mansion, he came round to open the door for her. She slid down, then looked up at him. Gathering her courage, she went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his in a quick kiss.

“In case anyone is watching,” she said, her cheeks burning, and scurried through the gates. She could feel him watching her all the way to the door.

She spent the day cleaning the old ballroom but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t stop the images flooding her mind. Fragments of the Pack meeting kept replaying in her mind: Lila’s predatory smile, the dozens of suspicious stares, Aidan’s unexpected friendliness. She’d felt like a fraud, waiting for someone to point at her and expose her lies.

But Eric’s presence had anchored her through all of it. Even when his mother’s absence had drawn whispers, he’d kept his arm around her, steady and sure.

Then the kiss had changed everything. Or maybe nothing. She dumped out the dirty mop water with a frustrated groan. This was supposed to be simple—a mutually beneficial arrangement to keep them both safe. Instead, her skin tingled where he’d touched her, and her lips ached for another taste.

He picked her up at the end of the day and once again they shared a meal. He kept the conversation light, talking about his day and avoiding the subject of the Pack—and the kiss. She still fled to her room as soon as dinner was over, but sleep escaped her.

As she tossed and turned, she finally realized that for the first time since she’d fled the city, she felt safe. Not just physically protected, but… seen. He didn’t demand explanations or push when she withdrew. He simply offered what she needed—shelter and security.

And now, inexplicably, passion.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the fiercely possessive way he’d kissed her. And yet he’d carefully given her space afterwards. Even now, she could hear him moving around the cabin, keeping his distance while staying close enough if she needed him.

What had she gotten herself into? And why didn’t that question terrify her anymore?

She finally sighed and got up, padding quietly to the kitchen. He was standing at the counter, whiskey glass dangling from his fingers, moonlight casting shadows across his face.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, golden and intense even in the darkness, then drifted down to her legs, bare beneath the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. Neither spoke, electricity humming in the air between them.

“I was just going to make some tea,” she said finally.

He shifted aside, giving her space at the counter. She filled the kettle, overwhelmingly conscious of his closeness, of the lingering warmth from where their arms brushed.

“Can’t sleep?” The low rumble of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

“No.” She dropped a tea bag into her mug. “I was thinking about the meeting…”

“You don’t need to worry about it. You did very well.”

The kettle whistled. She poured the hot water, watching steam curl up between them. She leaned against the counter beside him, their shoulders almost touching, as he took a slow sip of whiskey.

The quiet settled again, but it felt different now. Comfortable. Like they’d done this a hundred times before. The scent of whiskey and cedar mixed with the chamomile from her mug, creating something new and oddly peaceful.

“Your Pack doesn’t seem to approve of how you do things,” she said finally. “Or is that just because of me?”

“It’s not just you.” He set his glass down with a sigh. “The bond between Pack members runs deep. Like blood, but stronger. But that means they expect everyone to live by the old ways. Close-knit. Traditional.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“I respect our heritage, but I won’t let it cage me. The Pack thinks living apart makes me weak.”

She remembered the whispers at the meeting, the sideways glances. “Is that why your mother wants you to mate? To bring you back to the fold?”

“Partly. She also wants me to take over as Alpha.” His golden eyes fixed on some distant point. “The others just see my independence as a failing. They think I’m weak because I don’t want to be Alpha.”

The vulnerability in his words caught her off guard, and she shook her head.

“That’s not true,” she said firmly. He turned to look at her, something unreadable in his expression. His hand brushed against hers on the counter, sending warmth racing up her arm. “I saw how they looked at you today. They might disagree with what you’re doing, but they respect you.”

He didn’t respond, searching her face as if trying to find any trace of insincerity.

“Callan pulled you aside because he was concerned, but he treated you like an equal. Even Aidan, who seems to question everything—did you notice how he waited for your reaction before approaching me?” She shook her head. “That’s not weakness, Eric. That’s earning their respect on your own terms.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to see past their expectations.”

“Well, maybe you need an outsider’s perspective.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She didn’t regret her candor, but they reminded her of her position. “Will they keep watching us like that? The Pack?”

Eric set his glass down on the counter with a soft clink.

“Yes. They’ll be looking for proof that this is real, especially with my mother raising doubts.” He looked down at her, eyes glowing. “We’ll need to be more… physically affectionate in public.”

Her breath caught as the air between them thickened.

“And in private?”

He didn’t respond immediately, and a tiny flame of disappointment flickered in her chest. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.

“Anything you want, little bird.”

“What if…” She hesitated, gathering her courage. “What if I wanted to kiss you some more?”

He froze.

“Are you sure?”

“I…” She swallowed hard, then put her hand on his chest, right above his heart. It thumped rapidly beneath her palm, strong and steady. “Yes.”

She rose onto her toes, putting her hands on his shoulders, and pressed her lips to his. He froze again, then slowly returned the kiss, his big hands flexing on her hips. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss, and his tongue teased her bottom lip. The first taste made her head spin. When he pulled her against his chest, her hands slid up into his hair.

The kiss deepened and his arms came around her, lifting her off the floor and onto the table. Her body was aflame with sensation, but his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his mouth explored hers. He raised his head for a moment, looking down at her face as his fingers skimmed beneath the hem of her shirt.

When he lowered his head again, his fangs grazed her neck and the world tilted. The rough pads of his fingers stroked her hips, her stomach, then higher, skimming the curve of her breast. She bit her lip, muffling a moan, but he stopped anyway.

“Do you like that?” he growled. “Do you like me touching these sweet little breasts?”

Her cheeks flamed, but she nodded.

“You should always tell me what you like. What you want.”

“I—” Her voice trembled and he waited, fingers stroking her gently.

“I want you to touch me more,” she whispered.

“Where?” His breath was hot against her neck, his eyes burning.

“Everywhere.”

She barely had time to breathe before his mouth claimed hers, his big hands covering her breasts, teasing her nipples to taut aching peaks. She was drowning in sensation, every nerve ending singing.

One hand slid down between her legs and her whole body stiffened. She didn’t have time to panic because he immediately drew back, his thumb coming up to caress her jaw.

“Relax,” he murmured.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. If you want to stop, we stop.”

“I don’t want to stop, but…”

She bit her lip, unable to explain the confused mixture of arousal and nerves. His eyes softened.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured.

He kissed her again, slow and sweet, as his hands returned to her breasts. When she was wiggling against him, he very slowly slid a hand back down over her stomach, watching her face the whole time. She bit her lip but parted her thighs and he gave her a small, pleased smile.

“So sweet,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed over her, finding the wet heat that betrayed her desire. When his fingertip grazed her clit, she jerked.

“Easy,” he murmured.

“I’ve never done this before,” she whispered, cheeks flaming.

“With someone else?”

She shook her head, mortified, and his eyes widened.

“No one’s ever done this for you, little bird?”

She shook her head again, unable to meet his eyes.

“Let me take care of you. Do you trust me?”

She looked into those golden eyes, so intent on her, and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

His fingertip circled her clit and she moaned, clutching his shoulders.

“That’s it, little bird. Do you like that?”

“It feels so good,” she whispered, her cheeks burning.

“Tell me exactly what you like. Every little thing.”

The husky command sent heat rushing through her body. She could feel his gaze on her, studying her reactions.

“I don’t know.”

“Then we’ll find out together. Faster?”

“Yes, please.”

Her eyes closed, hips bucking as his fingers picked up speed. Her breathing grew ragged, the tension inside her rising.

“How about a little harder?”

She couldn’t have spoken, could only nod, but it was enough.

“Like this?” His finger rubbed firm, demanding circles around her clit. “Does that feel good?”

“Y-yes,” she gasped.

He kept circling her clit, his pace steady and relentless. It wasn’t long before she was clutching at his shoulders, moaning, desperate for more.

“Please. Please, Eric.”

“Do you need to come, little bird?”

“Yes!”

“But it’s not quite enough, is it?”

Before she could answer, he slid a thick finger inside her and she cried out. His thumb kept up a steady rhythm on her clit, his fingers curling to hit her sweet spot again and again, and the world blurred. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop, until she shattered against him, her cry muffled against his shoulder. He lifted her into his arms, holding her gently.

“I didn’t know,” she said softly, when she could speak again. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

“Oh, little bird.”

His voice was low, hoarse. He kissed her forehead, and she curled closer, content.

“You should go to bed,” he said finally, reluctantly.

“But…”

He brushed a gentle finger along her jaw.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. Got to bed, little bird.”

He set her down, steadying her until her legs would hold her, then turned her gently towards the bedroom. She stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed, a warm glow inside her that refused to dissipate. She was asleep within seconds.