And fuck if I don't want her to.
The air between us thickens in an instant, charged with the fierce energy of metal meeting metal and throwing sparks. My hand stays cupped to her cheek, water slipping off my wrist and gliding along the delicate slope of her throat. She tips her chin up into the hold, her gaze sweeping over my face with an intense focus that heats every inch of me it touches.
My wolf preens under the attention, and so do I.
“Noa…” I manage, though her name is barely a sound, and I can’t be sure she heard me.
It doesn’t matter, though. Not when she’s already on me.
Her fingers curl around my wrists and she pulls. Fierce. Determined. It’s as if she believes she possesses the strength to haul a man twice my size across the shower. She doesn’t, not even close, but I let her have the win. And I’ll do it again and again if it means she doesn’t take her hands off me.
This—her touching me because she wants to, not from anger or fear but genuine want—feels hallowed. The way it should have always been if I hadn’t spent so long fucking everything up.
Her movements are frantic again, a little reckless, and my hands slide to her sides immediately. The tiles are slippery beneath us, and the thought of her falling and hurting herself makes a fist form around my heart. I steady her, fingers firm on her hips as she continues to drag me.
We pass under the waterfall-style showerhead, and the water, now hot, washes over us. It slicks her hair flat, and runs down my shoulders, soaking us again—thawing the chill left from the unexpected icy plunge moments ago.
Noa doesn’t linger, guiding me until the built-in bench comes into sight.
She shifts me into position, the backs of my knees hitting the cold marble.
Warm palms travel slowly up my arms before sliding down my chest, following the path of the water beading on my skin. Nimble fingers glide lower, lower, until they hook into the waistband of my drenched sweats. Intent clear, I catch her wrists in my hold before she can yank them down.
Noa flashes her teeth in frustration, snapping them like she might actually bite me for stopping her, and the desperate whine that follows goes straight to my cock.
“Noa, baby…” The words rasp out of me and catch when little nails start to drag over the sensitive skin just above my waistband. A soft scratch that reads as a demand. A plea. “Just…slow down. I need to know you’re here with me—that you want this.You. Not just your wolf.”
She’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as if she has been sprinting. Then her eyes start to flicker between human and wolf, molten gold breaking into soulful brown in quick flashes. The sight tells me everything I need to know.
She isn’t gone—isn’t fully lost to the haze of instinct.
She’s here and choosing this.
“I’m with you,” she whispers.
Three simple words that eviscerate my control.
“You asked me what I needed, Ren,” she reminds me, urgency lacing every syllable, and her chin lifts almost stubbornly, as if she’s daring me to argue with her over this. “Well, I need these off.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer before pushing on. “You say you’re mine, but you don’t smell like you’re mine, and everything in me is screaming to fix it.” Her voice cracks on the next breath, shifting into a plea so soft and vulnerable it nearly has me willing to give her anything just so she never sounds this way again. “Pleaselet me fix it.”
I’m done for.
As if there’s a universe where I’d ever deny her. As if there’s a version of me, man or alpha, that is strong enough to withstand her desperate-sounding request to leave her claim on me. Even if only in scent. For now, anyway.
My world begins and ends with Noa now. Everything I am, everything I ever will be, exists to keep her safe and to give her whatever she needs to feel wanted and happy. And if dropping these sweats for her—giving her access to every inch of me—is what she needs in this moment, then there’s no force strong enough to stop me from giving it to her.
My cock doesn’t need convincing.The second her fingers brushed my waistband a moment ago, I was already halfway there. Now her begging has me fully hard, straining againstthe sodden fabric. I’m always going to crave her like this. It’s something that feels etched into me. Bone and soul. Endless.
I loosen my grip on her wrists, sliding my hands up to clutch her sides instead.
“All right,” I murmur, chest tight with burning anticipation. “Take what you need, baby. It’s already yours, anyway.”
Her eyes darken.
And she doesn’t hesitate.
She grabs my soaked pants with both hands and yanks them down, ripping them past my hips in one aggressive, determined pull. The wet fabric clings for a second before giving way, and I kick them off my ankles to help her, sending the heavy material slapping against the tile. She snatches them off the floor and flings them across the vast shower stall like they’ve personally offended her.
Before I can take a moment to appreciate that I’m once again naked before my mate, Noa plants both palms on my chest and shoves.
