Page 15 of Caught By the Wolf

“They are. Fresh trails. They’re not running. They’re hunting.”

He didn’t tell her the rest of it. About Declan’s warning that afternoon and the conclusions he had come to. Someone had studied this land before they’d ever set a boot on it. Someone was still out there right now, using the rain as cover. What they didn’t know was that Cage and Declan were waiting for them to make a mistake. And they would. Men like that always made a mistake.

He plated the eggs and set them in front of her, eating only when she did. When she finished, he took the plates to the sink and stared out the window for a long time. Watching. Listening. The tree line was too still. The kind of still that meant predators were watching.

Roman turned when he heard cupboard doors opening and closing behind him, one after another, with increasing frustration.

Ella was on her toes, rummaging through the upper shelves. The stretch pulled his shirt tight across her full breasts and made the soft fabric of the sweatpants cling to every curve of her hips and ass. His cock throbbed so hard he had to grip the edge of the counter.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something to make cookies with.” She opened another cupboard, peered inside, and shut it harder than necessary.

“I thought you weren’t the damsel-baking-while-distressed kind of woman.”

Ella swung around, hands on her hips. “Now is not the time to suddenly develop a sense of humor, wolf boy. You kissed me like you were trying to climb inside my skin, scrambled every brain cell I own, and now my body has decided the only reasonable response is sugar and butter. I want cookies. What I do not want is to be cranky all night.”

The wolf thought the cranky version of her was adorable. The man thought the cranky version of her was one more second away from being bent over the nearest surface.

“Is any of the chocolate Declan brought you left?”

“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “I saved you half.”

“Good. Then you can make cookies.”

He walked to the refrigerator, took out milk, butter, and eggs, and set them on the counter. Next he reached into the cabinet above the refrigerator and brought down two white containers, placing them beside the butter.

Ella walked over and opened the tubs. Inside was flour and sugar. “Baking supplies?”

“I make bread in the winter. It’s a weakness of mine.”

Ella went still. “Is that the only weakness you have?”

“It was.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily, before he forced himself back to his senses.

“Cage and Declan have the ridge,” he said, more to himself than to her. “I need air. Before I do something you haven’t had time to choose.”

“Roman—”

He crowded her against the counter, hands braced on either side of her hips. The hard ridge of his cock nestled against her stomach.

“If I stay in this kitchen one more minute I’m going to have you on this counter. Shirt up. Sweatpants down. My mouth between those lush thighs until you’re coming on my tongue. Then I’m going to fuck you right here. Slow at first so you feel every inch, then hard—until you forget every man who ever looked at you. And once I start, I will not stop. I will claim you. Tonight.”

Her eyes went wide. Her scent spiked so sweet and ready it nearly dropped him to his knees.

He shoved himself back before he could close the last inch.

“I’m not going far. I’ll hear you. I’ll sense if anything happens. Sleep if you can. I’ll be back within the hour.”

He wanted to stay. Every part of him—man and wolf both—wanted to stay in the cabin until the sun came up. That was exactly the problem. If he stayed, he would claim her. Tonight. Before she understood what the word even meant, before she’d had one full day to decide anything for herself.

Stepping out into the mist, he shut the door behind him, locking her inside. He shifted the second his feet hit the wet earth. Black fur, heavy muscle, the familiar burn of the change. The night air flooded his lungs—pine, rain, the distant smell of diesel from the trucks, and underneath it all the fading thread of her scent clinging to his skin, mixed now with the unmistakable scent of her arousal.

He had no doubt that she wanted him—as a man, a lover. But he wanted, no, needed so much more than that.

Mate, the wolf snarled, furious that they were leaving her.