Before her doubts could resurface, before the rational voice in her head could catalog all the reasons this was reckless and foolish and bound to end in heartbreak, she closed the space between them.
Her hands found the solid wall of his chest, and she looked up into those ice-blue eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past three days. “Thank you,” she whispered, but the words felt too inadequate for the magnitude of what he’d just offered her.
Something shifted in his expression, a crack in that careful control he wore like armor. His hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones with surprising gentleness for such powerful hands.
“Winslet,” he said, and her name on his lips sounded like a prayer.
She rose up on her toes and kissed him.
Their kiss wasn’t tentative or exploratory. It was urgent and desperate, like the recognition of something that had been inevitable from the moment they met. Like the hunger they’d both been denying for five days finally breaking free of its restraints.
This is insane.You should slow down, should not lean on this man, shouldn’t open your heart up to being bruised again.
But those rational voices fell silent beneath the magnetic pull between them, drowned out by the way Korrak kissed her like he’d been holding back for far too long. Like restraint had been a conscious, agonizing effort now abandoned at her permission.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against the solid heat of his body, and she felt simultaneously safe and alive in a way she never had before. The realization should have bothered her—this kind of instant, bone-deep connection defied every lesson she’d learned about protecting herself.
Instead, it shattered her defenses completely, and she kissed him deeper, pouring six months of fear and loneliness and desperate hope into the contact between them.
The last thread of rational thought snapped with the first slide of his hands. Korrak’s palms were broad and warm, mapping her body through the soft wool of her sweater with a tactile certainty that made her breath catch. His touch was possessive, not tentative, tracing the curve of her waist, and the full weight of her breasts. He didn’t ask permission. He simply claimed his right to know her shape, and the boldness of it sent a jolt of pure heat straight to her core. Their kiss deepened further, a tangle of tongues and shared breath that tasted like promise and salvation.
Her own hands were less sure but just as desperate, fumbling at the hem of his thick sweater. She broke the kiss, panting slightly. “You have too many layers on.”
A flicker of a smile touched his mouth as he helped her pull the garment up and over his head in one fluid motion. Winslet’s breath hitched at the sight of his bare chest before her. It was a landscape of power, all corded muscle and taut skin, marked here and there with the silvered traces of old conflicts. She saw the story of his life written there—not in words, but in theevidence of survival. Her fingertips followed a faint scar that curved over his ribcage.
“I’ll tell you that story later,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated through her.
His hands went to the hem of her sweater. The cool cabin air kissed her skin as he stripped it away, leaving her standing in only her jeans. A flush spread across her chest, but it was born of anticipation, not shame. Korrak’s gaze burned over her, his ice-blue eyes darkening with a hunger so raw it should have scared her. But it only thrilled her more.
“Perfect,” he said, the single word laden with so much reverence it felt like a caress.
He didn’t just look though. He bowed his head and took one taut peak into the heat of his mouth. Winslet let out a soft moan, her fingers spearing into his golden hair, holding him to her as he lavished attention with lips and tongue. The sensation was electric, a direct line of pleasure that made her knees buckle. He switched to her other breast, giving it the same devastating focus, and her head fell back on a gasp.
This is madness. This is perfect.
His mouth blazed a trail down her quivering stomach, his hands making quick work of her jeans. He peeled them down her legs, kneeling before her as she stepped out of them. The sight of him there, this powerful Alpha on his knees, his gaze fixed on her with a focus that felt worshipful, stole the air from her lungs. Vulnerability and power warred within her, but the naked need in his eyes tipped the scale.
She guided his head with a gentle pressure at his temple. “Korrak.”
He needed no further instruction. His mouth found her, and his tongue was an instrument of devastating precision. He explored her sensitive folds, learned her rhythm, and zeroed in on the bundle of nerves surrounding her clit with a skill thathad her seeing stars within seconds. Her legs trembled violently, and she had to grip his broad shoulders to avoid collapsing completely.
“Korrak—“
A low rumble of satisfaction vibrated against her as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just so. The dual assault was too much, too perfect. Her climax soon tore through her with the force of an avalanche, silent at first, then a sharp cry ripped from her throat as her body convulsed around his hand. He gentled his touch, drawing out every last shudder until she was boneless, her weight fully supported by his steadying hands.
Before the last tremor had faded, he rose and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Cradled against his chest, the world reduced to the solid beat of his heart and the scent of his skin, Winslet let go completely. Logic, fear, consequence—they were echoes from another life. This, the feeling of being carried to his bed, of knowing he was about to claim her, was the only truth that mattered.
He laid her on the familiar sheets, and she watched, mesmerized, as he removed his jeans. The man was a masterpiece of masculine power, and the thick, hard length of him made her mouth go dry and her core clench anew. His gaze swept over her naked form on his bed, and in that look, she felt utterly seen. Not as a problem to solve or a possession to own, but ashis.
He settled over her, the heat of his body a brand. He guided himself to her slick entrance, his eyes holding hers. “This is what you want, right?”
Her voice was steady and sure. “It’s everything I want.”
He pushed inside her with a slow, deliberate thrust that filled her completely, stretching her in the most exquisite way. She gasped, arching to take him deeper. This wasn’t an escape fromreality. It was a claiming, an affirmation, a silent vow spoken with their bodies.
He set a steady, rolling pace that made her moan. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him even deeper. “I need more. Faster, Korrak.”
A guttural sound escaped him. He drove into her with renewed intensity, the pace turning primal, and the headboard tapping a rhythmic protest against the wall. The coil of pleasure tightened again inside her, impossibly fast.
