Her long red hair has escaped its ponytail, cascading down her back in a waterfall of copper and gold. She’s changed out of the clothes she wore earlier into something more comfortable. The black leggings she wears now hug the curves of her ass and thighs like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. The oversized t-shirt has ridden up slightly as she bends, revealing a strip of pale skin at her lower back.
I freeze in the doorway, unable to move, unable to speak, as if the air has been suddenly sucked from my lungs.
The room is covered in her scent. Her pure, undiluted cherry blossom scent fills the room. It’s sweet, heady, and intoxicating.
What the hell?The scent wraps around me, seeping into my pores, flooding my system like a drug. My nostrils flare, drawing it deeper into my lungs, and my wolf surges forward, clawing at my control, desperate to get closer to the source of that delicious smell. My cock, which had finally begun to soften after my conversation with Elias, hardens instantly, pressing painfully against the confines of my pants.
I go completely still, every muscle in my body locking into place as I fight not to rut her on the spot. Her smell would be stronger between her legs. I know it if I tried to smell her. I take a sharp, involuntary breath, and it’s a mistake.
Her scent fills me more completely, making my head swim and my pulse thunder in my ears.
I turn my head slightly, trying to find clean air that isn’t saturated with her, but it’s useless. The entire room is filled with her essence, as if she’s marked every corner as hers. The thought sends a jolt of pleasure through me that’s almost painful in its intensity.
She hasn’t noticed me yet, still focused on unpacking, her movements graceful and unhurried. I’m transfixed, watching the way she moves, imagining how that body would feel beneath mine and how those thighs would part for me. I imagine hermoans as I wrap her hair around my fist to pull her head back and mark her soft throat.
My hands curl slowly into fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I can smell her scent gathering between her thighs. Fuck, she’s aroused too, responding to my presence even without seeing me. My instincts scream at me to cross the room, to flip her onto her back, to tear those leggings away and bury myself inside her.
The intensity of my desire terrifies me. I’ve never felt this out of control, this close to losing myself to my baser instincts. Not even during my ruts, which I’ve always managed with clinical detachment, finding release with willing betas who mean nothing to me.
This is different. This is primal.
I want to tear her clothes off with my teeth. I want to push her face-down into the mattress and mount her from behind, the way wolves do. I want to knot her, fill her with my seed, watch her belly swell with my pups. I want to mark every inch of her skin with my scent, my teeth, so that no other alpha besides my pack would dare come near her.
The growl builds in my chest before I can stop it, low and threatening, rumbling up through my throat until it fills the quiet room.
Francine freezes instantly, her body going rigid. Slowly, she straightens and turns to look over her shoulder, her movements cautious, like prey that’s suddenly sensed a predator. Her eyes meet mine instantly, and I see the moment fear flickers across them. But she takes a long inhale.
She can smell me, too. She can sense my desire for her radiating from me in waves.
I take a deliberate step backward, putting distance between us. My body screams in protest at the retreat, but I silence it ruthlessly. I will not be ruled by instinct.
“You need your blockers,” I growl out. I can’t think with her scent floating around me. Everywhere.
She’s still frozen, not knowing what to do with me in her bedroom.
“They’re on the dresser,” she whispers, her voice barely audible even to my enhanced hearing. “Could you... could you bring them to me?”
If she moves toward me, if she closes the distance between us, I won’t be able to restrain myself. The thin thread of my control, already fraying, would snap completely.
I nod once, sharply, and move to the dresser where a small bottle of scent-blocking lotion sits. My hand closes around it, fingers tightening until I hear the plastic crack. I loosen my grip immediately, terrified of breaking it, of leaving her without protection against what I’m feeling right now.
I turn back to her, the bottle clutched in my hand like a lifeline.
My back is rigid as I cross the room, every step measured, deliberate. I stop an arm’s length away, extending the bottle toward her.
Francine steps closer to take it, her movements hesitant but graceful. Our fingers brush as she takes the bottle from me, and the brief contact sends a bolt of electricity straight to my groin. Another growl escapes me, lower this time, almost a moan.
The space between us feels charged, crackling with an energy I can’t name but recognize instinctively. Time stretches as we stand there, neither moving, both breathing too quickly. The sound of her heartbeat fills my ears, racing to match my own. She smells of cherries and fear and arousal, a combination so intoxicating I have to lock my knees to keep from swaying toward her.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her voice soft and uncertain. “I thought I put enough on before coming here. I didn’t think…”
“Don’t apologize,” I interrupt, the words coming out fiercer than intended, almost angry. I’m not angry at her at all. “Don’t ever apologize for what you are.”
Her face flushes a delicate pink at my words, her lips parting slightly in surprise. The sight of that pink tongue darting out to wet her lower lip nearly undoes me completely. I take another step back, needing the distance like I need air to breathe.
We stand in the charged quiet, the only sounds our breathing and the distant ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. My pulse is loud in my ears, drowning out rational thought. All I want is to knot her.
“Dinner is at seven,” I finally manage to say, my voice rough with strain. “We’ll discuss the house rules then. Things you should know while you’re staying here.”
