Page 58 of Wild Games

“I don’t pity you.” I stand slowly, testing the steadiness of my legs before closing the distance between us. “I’m impressed you survived.”

He goes still as I rest my hand on his arm and turn him, reaching up to touch his face, my thumb brushing over a faint line on his chin. His eyes close briefly, leaning into the contact.

“Everyone wants to fix you,” I continue softly. “Make you fit their idea of what a wolf should be. But tonight proved what I already knew. You’re perfect, exactly as you are.”

He shakes his head.

“Stop.” The word comes out strained. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” I press closer, feeling his hands come up automatically to rest on my waist. “Your wolf saved me because you’re exactly who you’re supposed to be. Wild. Untamed. And all mine.”

His hands tighten on my hips, and his chest rises. When he continues to shake his head from side to side, for a moment, I think he’ll push me away. Instead, he lifts me, setting me on the exam table and stepping between my knees.

“The Council could put me down. Or bind my wolf.” His voice is controlled, but I see the tendons bulging in his neck, and the veins popping in his arms.

A fate worse than death for most shifters, where the wolf is subdued by magic, unable to surface and take control.

“They won’t. I won’t allow it.” I frame his face with my hands, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You’re the good guy here.”

He sighs.

“Even if I’m not in trouble for that, they’ll sense him, feel his wrongness, and that’ll be it. There’ll be no hiding then.”

I pull him down until our foreheads touch. The contact grounds us both. “I wouldn’t change a thing about your wolf. We can make this work, Jax. Us. I know we can.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. I can feel the war in him, the struggle between what he wants and what he thinks is right. “Maybe.”

Then his hands start moving. One slides up to cup the back of my neck while the other traces patterns on my bare thigh, pushing the hem of the nightgown higher.

“I need to make sure you’re fully warmed up.” His voice has dropped to something deeper. “Doctor’s order.”

His hand moves higher, fingers spreading across my thigh.

My breath catches at the heat of his palm through the fabric. “You’re trying to distract me.”

Jax shrugs. “Do you care? Or object to my treatment methods?”

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“No objections.” The words come out breathless. “But we have to talk about...”

His fingers find the line where my leg meets my hip, tracing along the edge. It’s ticklish, and I squirm, aware that my wet underwear is sitting in the pile of discarded clothes, leaving me bare for him.

“Not now. No more talking. You’ve been through trauma. You need to relax.” He smiles down at me, checking to make sure I’ve recovered enough for this.

“Is that your professional medical opinion?” I want to laugh at the absurdity, but then his hand brushes against my sensitive mound, and all coherent thought scatters. He watches my face intently as he explores, cataloguing every reaction.

“So responsive.” He says it like an observation, but there’s heat in his eyes now. Dark hunger barely stays in check as he slips one finger inside me. “That’s good. Very good.”

His touch is gentle but devastating. He takes his time, building slowly, refusing to be rushed, even when I grab his shoulders and try to urge him faster. Every movement isdeliberate, controlled. It’s nothing like I expected from the wild wolf everyone fears.

“Jax.” His name breaks on a gasp as he finds exactly the right angle, adding a second finger to stretch me further. My nails dig into his shoulders through the thin top as I lift off the bed. “Please.”

I’m dripping for him as he slides his fingers in and out with ease.

Spreading my juices over my clit, he uses his thumb to drive me higher, staring at my face as I pant and gasp.

“Let go.” His free hand cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “I’ve got you. Just let go.”