She called me her wolf. She meant it. And now she’s my Babygirl.
I close my eyes and I see her—blindfolded, trusting, and begging.
The way her hips arched.
The way she whimpered.
The way she gave me everything without question and fear.
She let me inside. Let me claim every inch. No hesitation. No shame.
And now?
Any man who looks at her—any fucker who even thinks about her—will have to go through me. Because I don’t share. I don’t play nice. And I sure as hell don’t let go.
I shift into gear, eyes on the road, but my mind’s still back in her bed.
Her scent in my lungs.
Her taste still on my tongue.
Her body burned into my fucking bloodstream.
My hungerisn’t sated. It’s evolved.
I drive through the fading dark, one hand on the wheel, the other curling tight. Dawn’s just a whisper on the horizon.
Her words echo in my mind, binding me.
My Wolf.
And with brutal clarity, I know?—
This is only the beginning.
Chapter 20
Laurette Devereux
The old Laurettewould’ve woken up with regret. The new Laurette woke up with bite marks and no shame.
My body is wrecked in the best way. Heavy. Aching. Gloriously used. I stretch across the bed, bare skin grazing sheets that still smell like him. Musk and leather. Sweat and sin.
I still smell like him this morning… and what he left inside me.
Every nerve in my body sings with the memory of last night.
I’ve never felt this good after sex. Not with Jon David. Not with anyone. Not in all the years I’ve tried to convince myself sex was about emotional connection, intimacy, and eye contact—all the things you read about in romance books and see in movies. I believed you could train a man to touch you the right way if you gave him enough time and feedback.
No feedback is necessary. One night with B and I’m ruined for anyone else.
I flip onto my stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow. My thighs ache in the best way. Sore. Spent. Stretched. I smile to myself, stretch again, and glance at the burner phone on my nightstand.
No messages.
But there’s a folded note tucked beneath it.
I sit up, heart thudding, and unfold the paper.
