“Shhhhh.” It’s barely a sound at all.
She nods against me.
She smells fucking incredible, and there was no time to get more mud on her, and my cock is still hard, and there are feral males stalking outside. I need to get my head right because this situation requires every bit of focus I have and then some.
My dragon wants me to fight. He wants me to go out there and put every one of those males in the ground and then come back in here and put Carla on her knees in order to claim what he considers his due.
What is wrong with him?
What is wrong with me?
It’s like the second I walked out of a boardroom and into a jungle, every piece of logical thinking evaporated. I don’t operate like this.
It has to stop.
A growl comes through the undergrowth. Low and rolling, followed by a series of shorter snarls. Carla goes rigid beside me. She pulls in a breath. I lower my mouth to her ear again.
“Shhhh,” I warn again.
She turns her face into the crook of my neck and presses it there and doesn’t move. Good girl. My hand finds the back of her head, and I hold her there.
I will protect her and keep her safe.
I listen with every part of my senses.
Fuck, they’re moving this way. I can track them by the soft disruptions in the birdsong ahead of them, the way the jungle quiets thirty feet before the males do. Small animals clearing the path. That collective, wordless warning that passes throughevery living thing in a forest when something dangerous is approaching.
Fuck!
Have they caught our scent? Our trail maybe? Either is possible. I should have been more careful. I should have moved us faster and covered our tracks better and not let myself get distracted by the female pressed against my side. That’s on me. I know it. If we get out of this, I’m going to do better. I’m going to stop thinking with my dick and start doing the job I came here to do.
They’re on their way here. The noises are getting closer and closer. A crash in the undergrowth, a snarl or a growl.
I put my lips to her ear. “Trust me.”
Carla nods. A single, certain movement, even though she’s terrified.
As quietly and as gently as I can, I get on top of her. There is no elegant way to do it in this space. I keep my weight on my forearms, covering her body with mine from head to knee. She goes still under me, utterly motionless.
I feel fucking terrible. She’ll have my cock digging into her. It can’t be helped. Apparently, I’m not going soft any time soon.
I think the adrenaline is fueling my arousal rather than damping it.
I need to cover her scent as best I can. Mask it with my own, or we are doomed.
Then I reach down between us and cup my hand over her pussy, right over the wet-as-fuck lace, and I hold it there. The warmth of her makes me want to groan. She’s wet right through the lace. I press my hand tighter over her, trying to create a seal.
The males moving closer might scent another shifter male, but hopefully they won’t be able to scent her.
Please!
Hopefully, they will assume another male passed through and moved on. They might not pick up on anything at all. It’s a gamble, like everything in this jungle, but it’s the best I have right now.
If they scent her, I’m going to have to fight. And if I fight, I’m going to have to pray that I can keep enough of a handle on my dragon to get Carla clear and keep moving, because once blood is in the air, my beast will stop being anything resembling cooperative. He will want to kill them and then claim his prize, and I might not be able to stop him from doing it.
Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.
17
