Page 12 of Caught By the Wolf

He wanted to drop to his knees right there in the mud, yank those sweatpants down, and bury his face between her thighs until she came on his tongue. He wanted to spin her around, bend her over, and sink into her from behind so he could watch that perfect ass bounce while he fucked her. He wanted to fill her until she dripped with him.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen and glistening, thoroughly kissed.

“Okay,” Ella said. “What was that?”

Roman shook his head. His cock was still straining against her, and every instinct he owned screamed at him to finish what he’d started. “We should go back.”

“Very helpful.” She let go of his shirt like it had burned her and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.

He fell into step beside her in silence, the taste of her still burning on his tongue and the wolf finally quiet with dark, dangerous satisfaction. They had finally tasted their mate. And the men who wanted to take her from him were still out there in the trees, waiting for their chance.

Roman’s hand stayed near the small of her back the entire walk home, every sense stretched tight, every shadow a possible threat. The kiss had only made the need worse. He would not lose her. Not to the past. Not to the men hunting them. Not to anything.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ella

Ella’s legs felt like jelly the entire walk back to the house. That kiss had not been a kiss. That had been a full-on sexual assault on her mouth. One she’d enthusiastically participated in. Her lips tingled and her panties were decidedly not dry. But Roman walked beside her like he hadn’t just tried to fuck her against a tree with a very impressive erection.

Great. Just great. She’d survived poachers only to be undone by the horniest wolf on the mountain.

Not that she was opposed to that happening… Just…

Every time she glanced at him, his jaw was clenched tight. His scent kept wrapping around her like a physical touch. Shifter hormones? She’d heard about that, but it usually didn’t affect the general population. Only—

Her mind scurried back to what he’d said yesterday after he’d carried her to the cabin, before his brothers had burst in like some invading army.

Had he really said that? Implied that?

No, not possible.

Men who looked like Roman Matthews did not claim thoroughly average nurses. They claimed sleek wolf females with athletic thighs and flat stomachs. Not women who got winded running downhill and whose sports bras staged full-scale rebellions. She had accepted that fact years ago.

She glanced again at her rescuer-slash-captor.

When they finally stepped back inside the cabin, Roman closed the door behind them with deliberate care, like he was afraid he might rip it off the hinges if he wasn’t careful. She could practically feel the tension vibrating off him.

Ella crossed her arms. “So. Are we going to talk about that? About what seems to be happening? Because something is happening. I feel like I’m getting the flu. I’m all hot and flushed and…” She drew in a deep breath. “What’s going on, Roman?”

He just stood there, back against the door, his hands hidden behind his back.

“Is this just your wolf testosterone talking? Or am I just easy prey?”

She could tell him that’s exactly what she wanted to be. His prey. His for the taking. Over and over.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, I really do.” She placed her hands on her hips, looking him squarely in the eye. Strangely, she wasn’t afraid of the man who could probably snap her neck with just one hand. That was probably a red flag. She’d think about that later, along with everything else on the ever-growing list of things she’d think about later.

He stalked toward her, slow and predatory as if he’d taken her comment to heart. Ella refused to back up. He stopped just short of touching her, close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off his big body.

“It wasn’t testosterone. Or the heat of the moment.” His voice dropped to that gravelly register that did terrible, wonderful things to her insides. “You’re my mate, Ella.”

She blinked. “Your… mate. Like, wolf mate? The forever, bitey, ‘til death do us part’ kind?”

“Yes.”

Ella let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Well, how the hell did that happen? No. It didn’t happen. Because men—wolves—who look like you do not take chubby mates. They take wolf mates. Slender, forever-athletic-looking wolf mates.”