I walked straight to the bathroom. Turned on the shower. Stripped off my clothes with shaking hands. Stepped under the spray before the water was even warm.
The cold helped. Cleared my head slightly. But as the water heated up, so did my thoughts.
His mouth on my neck. His hands on my hips. His voice in my ear telling me he was always hard for me. Always wanting me.
My hand slipped between my legs without conscious thought.
I was soaked. Absolutely drenched. The water from the shower had nothing to do with it.
I touched myself, biting my lip to stay quiet. Circled my clit with shaking fingers. Imagined it was his hand instead of mine. His mouth. His-
“Mal,” I whimpered. Barely audible over the water. Just a breath of sound.
Glass shattered somewhere in the apartment.
I froze. My hand stilled.
Had he heard me? He was in the kitchen. The bathroom door was closed. The shower was running. There was no way he could have heard that. No way he-
But he had super hearing. Enhanced senses. He could probably hear my heartbeat from the other room. Could probably smell my arousal even through the running water.
Oh god.
Had he heard me? Had he heard me whisper his name while I touched myself?
I didn’t know what I wanted. Didn’t know if I hoped he hadn’t heard, hadn’t known what I was doing in here.
Or if some desperate part of me hoped he’d heard every moan.
11
— • —
Malachar
I could not sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, the memory returned. Her warm hand wrapped around my shaft. The way she had trembled against me. Her whimpers as I bit and nipped at her neck. How she had tasted, salt and sweetness and pure female arousal.
I was losing my mind.
I had not been lying when I told her she drove me insane. The scent of her still clung to my skin. The feel of her fingers in my hair. The sound of my name, the nickname she gave me -Mal- whispered from her lips as I claimed her neck with my mouth.
And then she had touched me. Stroked me through the blanket until I had come apart in her hands, unable to control myself, unable to think of anything but her.
I paced the small living room, unable to quiet the restless energy thrumming through my veins. My wolf was clawing at my insides, demanding I go to her. Demanding I claim her properly. Mark her. Make her mine in every way that mattered.
This was not working. I needed to burn off steam before I combusted. Before I said fuck the promises and kicked down her bedroom door.
In silence, I walked to the back door. Stepped outside into the cool night air. The moment my feet hit the grass, I tore off the pants I had borrowed and shifted.
The transformation was instantaneous. One second, man. The next, wolf. My wounds pulled slightly, a reminder that I was still not fully healed, but the pain faded quickly as I stretched my legs and took off running toward the woods.
The forest welcomed me. Dark and quiet and familiar in a way this human world was not. I ran until my muscles burned, my lungs screamed, and some of the desperate energy began to fade.
I did not enjoy the attention of the females. Hated it, in fact. Their touches made my skin crawl. Their scents were all wrong. Their eyes held nothing but lust and curiosity, not the fire and spirit I saw in my mate’s gaze.
But it seemed to make Wen happy. The plan was working. Her bookstore was thriving. So I had gone along with it. Smiled politely. Handed out the pamphlets she had printed. Stood there in those ridiculous human clothes while females stared and whispered.
