Page 78 of Wolf's Vow

“This isn’t just us fucking,” he said, voice low and brutal. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice ragged from my screaming, and Wolfe’s eyes flared with desire just as he pushed inside. My breath caught once more. My nails dug into his shoulders.

Wolfe groaned like the world cracked open beneath us. He held still, forehead to mine, panting hard. “Princess, you feel—fuck.”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’tthink. Only feel.

And then he moved.

Each thrust was deep, slow,devastating. There was nothing careful about the way he took me—onlytruth. Each snap of his hips said what neither of us had:You are mine. You have always been mine.

The bond flared—bright, hot, unfinished. Not sealed. Butthere.

Alive.

I clung to him as it built between us, until my body locked tight and the wave of pleasure hit like wildfire. I cried out his name, not caring who heard, not caring what it meant.

He followed with a growl, burying himself deep and breaking apart inside me. For a long, breathless moment, there was only us.

No pack.

No war.

Wolfe kissed me gently. “More,” he growled.

He carried me to the bedroom, laying me down, never leaving me, and I could feel him harden inside me again.

“Wolfe…”

“I’m spending all night inside you, princess,” he murmured against my lips, his hips rolling gently. “All fucking night.”

Morning light slippedthrough the curtains, soft and golden. Warm enough to feel like peace.

My legs were tangled with Wolfe’s, the sheet half-kicked off, our clothes ripped and torn in the hallway. His arm was heavy across my waist, his hand resting low on my stomach—like even in sleep, he couldn’t let go.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t want to wake him.

Didn’t want to admit I didn’t know what the hell to do with this.

His breath ghosted against the back of my neck, slow and steady. Calm. Like the man who’d torn me apart last night hadn’t buried all his frustration, rage and need inside me with every kiss, every thrust, every growl of my name.

I’d wanted it. Gods, I’d needed it. But now? Now my body was sore in the best way, and the bond that hadn’t sealed was a low, burning hum beneath my skin.

Waiting.

Like it knew we were dancing on the edge of something irreversible.

I exhaled slowly, my chest tight. My throat still raw from the sounds he’d dragged from me. I hated that I could still feel his hands on me—his mouth, his voice. Like they’d left bruises deeper than skin.

And worse? I didn’t want them gone.

I moved slightly. Not enough to break contact. Just enough to breathe. Wolfe murmured something behind me, a low rumble I didn’t catch, and tightened his grip.

Shit.

I was so tired of pretending this was just for the pack’s survival. Just what the pack needed. Because last night? That wasn’t politics.