I’m a heartbeat away from easing her leggings down and taking her against this tree.
We can’t. We can’t do this.
I tear myself away with a growl, my chest heaving. My hands shake as I stumble back, putting space between us. The cold air hits my skin, but it does nothing to cool the fire raging inside me.
“No.” My voice is rough, barely recognizable. “No, sweetheart. We can’t.”
Norah stares at me, her lips swollen from my mouth, her eyes wide with hurt. She’s breathing just as hard as I am, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. The sight of her—flushed, disheveled, needy—makes my cock jerk against my pants, my body screaming at me to close the distance and kiss her again.
“Why not?” Her voice is small, but there’s a edge to it, something raw and wounded.
I drag a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling. “Because if we keep going, I won’t stop. I want you too much to stop.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. Stopping is the last thing I want to do, but we have to. “And then it’s permanent.”
She flinches and wraps her arms around her waist like she’s trying to hold herself together. The hurt in her eyes guts me. Kills me. But she doesn’t want this. Not really. It’s only the bond making her throw caution to the wind.
I want to pull her into my arms. Want to kiss her until she forgets why she’s upset. Want to fix this.
But I can’t. Not while protecting her from making a huge mistake. I care for her too much to let her shackle herself to a man twice her age for the rest of her life.
So I stand there, panting, cock achingly hard, and watch as her shoulders sag.
And I know, I’ve fucked up yet again. I should’ve never asked her to help me with that ritual. I should’ve never been so arrogantly sure about what we were doing.
And I definitely shouldn’t have kissed her. Because now that I know how fucking good she feels, how right, the delicious sounds she makes, it’s going to be even harder to stay away from her. But I have to. If we have any hope of undoing this, we can’t let this go any further.
“I’ll walk you back to camp,” I say, my voice rough around the edges. She just nods and starts back down the path, leaving me to trail after her.
The walk back to camp is torture.
Norah walks beside me, silent. The air between us is thick with want, with the ghost of her mouth on mine, the way she melted against me. I can still taste her—sweet, warm, fucking perfect.
Our hands brush. It’s just a graze, the backs of our fingers touching as we walk. But it’s enough to send a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. We both gasp, the sound sharp in the quiet night. She jerks her hand away like she’s been burned, and I nearly groan at the loss.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I force myself to shove my hands deep in my pockets, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. Every step is agony, the bond seeming to crackle in the air around us, screaming at me to touch her. To pull her against me, tell her I’m keeping her, and never letting go.
I clench my fists in my pockets, my nails digging into my palms. The pain does nothing to distract me from the hunger gnawing at me. From the way my body throbs with need, my cock hard and aching, leaking in my sweats.
When we reach her tent, Norah turns to face me, her expression unreadable. Her lips are still swollen from my mouth, and the sight of them makes my chest burn. I want to kiss her again. Want to push her inside that tent and fuck her until neither of us can remember our own names.
But I don’t. Gold star for me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words rough and raw.
She nods, a wavery smile trembling on her lips. “Goodnight,” she whispers back, and then she’s gone, disappearing inside her tent.
I stand there for a long moment, staring at the closed flap, my body screaming at me to follow her. To tear that zipper open and claim what’s meant to be mine.
But instead I turn and walk away, my hands still clenched in my pockets, my cock throbbing with every step. I curse myself the entire way back to my tent, my mind replaying the kiss over and over again—the way she moaned into my mouth, the way her body arched against mine, the way she whimpered when I ground against her.
I unzip my tent and step inside, the darkness swallowing me whole. I strip off my jacket, and kick off my boots, then slip back into my abandoned sleeping bag. I shove my hand into my sweats and grip my dick, hissing at the contact, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.
Fuck, I need her.
I stroke myself, slow and rough, my grip tight as I imagine it’s her hand on me. Her mouth. Her tight, wet cunt around me. I picture her on her knees in front of me, those big brown eyes looking up at me as she takes me deep, her lips stretched widearound my cock. I groan, my eyes closing as I imagine the way she’d whimper, the way her tongue would swirl around the head, the way she’d gag when I thrust too deep.
I stroke faster, my breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. I imagine putting her on all fours and then sliding into her from behind, her pussy clenching around me as I fuck her hard and deep. I imagine the way she’d scream my name, the way her body would tremble as she came on my cock.
