Page 19 of Wild Games

I reach up and bury my hands in her hair and wrap the silken lengths around my fist, using it to gently tip her head back. The position exposes the elegant line of her throat, pale skin begging for my teeth.

“Jax...” Warning or plea, I can’t tell.

I dip my head, dragging my tongue along the side of her throat.

Gods, she tastes likemine. Like heaven and bad decisions all rolled into one.

I growl, the vibration passing from my lips to her vulnerable neck, and her body arches into me, a needy sound escaping her that makes my wolf howl in triumph.

She wants us. Even though she knows we’re broken, she wants my mark. Craves it.

My thigh pushes against her core, and she rocks into it immediately with a whimper, seeking friction. The heat of her against my leg, even through clothes, rubbing her scent along my jeans as she takes her pleasure, threatens to undo me completely. I press harder, giving her what she needs while my own control shreds to nothing.

“That’s it,” I growl against her skin. “Yes.”

She whimpers, hips moving in small, desperate circles, eyes locked onto mine, as I keep my hold on her hair, forcing her head to stay back so I can stare at her pretty face as she chases her release.

I could watch her like this forever, coming apart because of me.

My wolf preens at reducing our strong mate to this beautiful, needy creature. I graze my teeth across her marking spot, not biting, but threatening. Promising.

She freezes for a heartbeat, then melts against me with a moan that goes straight to my cock.

“Please,” she breathes out, though neither of us knows what she’s asking for. “I can’t. I’ve never…”

A knock at the door breaks the spell and pours cold water on the moment.

I curse as Camille blinks hard, eyes rapidly shifting back to their normal colour, as reality comes crashing in, and she pulls away from me, cheeks still rosy. “Oh God.”

What was she about to tell me?

Outside, a voice calls out. “Hello? Is anyone here? Please, my baby...”

I step back from Camille, who’s still leaning against my thigh, so fast, that she nearly stumbles but catches herself on the counter.

“Fuck,” she mutters, regret all over her flushed features. Her lips are swollen, hair wild, and her eyes glazed with need. She looks thoroughly debauched, and my wolf wants nothing more than to finish what we started.

The knock comes again, more urgent. “Jax? He won’t stop crying, and his fever...”

“Coming.” I straighten my clothes, then move to the door. Behind me, I hear Camille’s shaky breathing as she tries to compose herself.

When I open the door, I come face to face with Melissa, one of our younger mothers, cradling her six-month-old son. Tears stream down her face, and the pup’s cries are weak, with a rattle that shouldn’t be there.

“Bring him in,” I say immediately, switching to healer mode. “How long has he had the fever?”

“Since last night.” Melissa sobs, following me to the examination table. “He’s had a cough for the last few days, and I thought it was just teething, but then he stopped nursing and...”

I tune out everything except the pup in front of me. Check his temperature, his breathing, responses to my examination. The fever is high, but not yet dangerous. An infection, throat and ear, by the looks of it. Common enough, easily treated.

“He’ll be fine.” I assure Melissa, moving to prepare the appropriate medicine.

From the corner of my eye, I see Camille watching. Her expression is unreadable but soft as she stares at the pup, who wraps his fingers around mine as I scrawl some instructions on a notepad beside me.

“I should go and give you your privacy,” Camille says, giving Melissa, who is so worried about her son that she’s only now noticed her presence. With a kind smile, she’s already moving toward the door while I work, slipping away to avoid dealing with what’s just happened. “I’ll check out those locations and speak with Dean. You’ve given me enough information to work with.”

She’s retreating, pulling back and re-establishing a professional distance. Her hands tremble slightly as she smooths her hair and puts it back into a high ponytail that my fingers itch to yank back out.

“Wait…” I go to stand, but she holds up a hand and cuts me off. Her phone buzzes, and she frowns as she glances at the screen and slides it back into her pocket.