I focus on his weight against me, on the heat of his breath against my neck, on the steady beat of his heart. Every step we take is a fight, every breath a prayer my wolf howls into the night.
We break through the edge of camp, into the trees, the darkness swallowing us whole. The shouts fade behind us, replaced by the rush of blood in my ears, the crack of branches underfoot, the sharp scent of fox and wolf and frost.
Silas’s head rests against my shoulder, his eyes half-lidded but still open. “Mary,” he murmurs, his voice a ghost of sound.
“I’m here,” I whisper, tightening my grip. “I’m not letting go.”
His body shudders once more, then goes limp, but his heart still beats under my hand.
We run deeper into the forest, the night closing around us, carrying him home.
24
SILAS
Iwake to the scent of her—pine and snow and something wilder beneath. Her body curves against mine in the dim light of the cabin, her breath warm on my skin. The pain is a distant memory, a ghost beneath the weight of this. Of her.
Her fingers trace my jaw, light as a whisper. “You’re awake.”
I turn into her touch, my throat tight. “Mary.”
She shifts, her leg sliding over mine, her body pressing closer. Her lips find the hollow of my throat, then my mouth, slow and deep, a kiss that tastes like forgiveness and want and things I never let myself hope for. My hands slide up her back, under the thin cotton of her shirt, feeling the heat of her skin, the strength in her spine.
She pulls back just enough to tug her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving mine. Her breasts brush my chest, and I groan, my cock hardening against her thigh. She reaches between us, her fingers working the button of my jeans, then hers, pushing fabric aside until there’s nothing but skin and heat.
Her hand wraps around my cock, her grip firm, her thumb stroking the head. I arch into her touch, my breath catching. “I need you,” I rasp, my voice rough with sleep and want.
She guides my cock inside her, slow, so slow, her body opening for me like something sacred. She sinks down onto me, her hips rolling, taking me deep. I fill her completely, and for a moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe, connected, her forehead pressed to mine.
Then she begins to move, a slow, aching rhythm that builds like a tide. Her hips rock against mine, her inner muscles clenching around me. My hands grip her waist, holding her close as I thrust up into her, matching her pace. Her breath hitches, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Silas,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
I roll us over, pinning her gently beneath me without breaking our connection. I brace my weight on my forearms, looking down at her—her hair fanned out on the pillow, her lips parted, her eyes dark with need. I thrust deeper, slower, drawing each movement out until she’s trembling beneath me.
Her legs wrap around my hips, pulling me closer. “Don’t stop.”
I wouldn’t even if the world ended. I drive into her again and again, each thrust a promise, each gasp a prayer. Her body tightens around me, her climax building, and I feel my own control fraying.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her breath coming in sharp, sweet gasps. I can feel her tightening around me, that familiar coil of pleasure winding deep in my gut. But I want to give her more. I want to taste her.
I pull out of her with a low groan, the sudden emptiness a shock to us both.
Her eyes fly open, a question in them. “Silas?”
I slide down her body, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wider. The scent of her, of us, is intoxicating. I bury my face between her legs, my tongue finding her wet heat.
She cries out, her back arching off the bed. “Oh god.”
I lick her slowly, tracing every fold, savoring the taste of her. Her hips buck against my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I focus on her clit, circling it with the tip of my tongue, then sucking gently.
“Right there,” she moans, her voice ragged. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t. I drive her higher, my tongue working her in a relentless rhythm. Her thighs tremble around my head. Her breathing turns into desperate, broken pleas. I slip two fingers inside her, curling them, finding that spot that makes her gasp. I fuck her with my fingers as my mouth works her clit.
Her whole body goes rigid. A raw, shuddering cry tears from her throat as she comes against my mouth, her release flooding my senses. I keep my mouth on her, gentling my touch, drawing out every last tremor until she collapses back onto the bed, boneless and spent.
Her taste is still on my lips when I lift her from the bed. Her legs wrap around my waist instantly, her arms locking around my neck. She’s light in my arms, all warm skin and trust. I carry her across the room and press her back against the cool wood of the cabin wall.
