Page 40 of The Enforcers: KANE

Rachelle moaned.

Kane reached down and grabbed the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up so she had her legs wrapped around his waist, moving his hands to cup her ass. She slid her arms around his neck and he kissed her deeply once more, his tongue thrusting and demanding.

He shouldered the door open and carried her across the threshold, kicking it shut with one heavy boot without tearing his lips from hers.

He put her down and she immediately moved her hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it halfway off before he took over. All the time they were moving, banging into the walls and tearing at each other’s clothes, leaving a trail of half-ripped garments all the way to the bedroom.

By the time they got there Rachelle was wearing nothing but her panties and her bra, which was halfway down one shoulder. Kane’s boots had been kicked off and his shirt was somewhere in the living room. His jeans were unsnapped and riding down his hips.

Rachelle sat down on the edge of the bed. Kane walked up between her legs, looking down at her, his eyes flashing golden and a sexy growl rattling his chest.

Rachelle ran her hands across his abs. The skin was soft over the hard, ridged muscles. He definitely had more scars than she remembered from years ago. And more muscles—every muscle of his chest was sharply defined. She lightly traced the V that ran from his hipbones down below the waistband of his jeans.

He shivered, and she could see his cock flex beneath his briefs. The growl grew louder, and his eyes grew more golden. He twined his fingers in her hair, forcing her head back, and dropped to his knees, his teeth grazing her neck, one hand gripping her thigh.

Too rough. “Kane,” she gasped out. Shit, Wolf really was out of control. She felt a stab of fear.

The growl grew louder, and she felt his arms ripple, fur appearing and receding. The hand on her thigh shifted, and sharp claws opened bleeding scratches down her thigh.

She cried out in pain.

Within seconds Kane was across the room, backed up against the wall. His eyes were glowing gold, and his hands were shifting into wickedly clawed paws and back again, over and over.

Oh. My. God.

“Rachelle,” Kane said through gritted teeth. “Get out of here. Now.”

She could feel Wolf clawing at him from the inside, angry and scared, demanding to get out. To hurt and kill, because he didn’t know how else to make all these feelings go away.

She didn’t move. Her heart was breaking into pieces, seeing what he’d become. No wonder he was “Sir Stick-up-his-ass.” It took everything he had to keep Wolf from going wild.

“Rachelle,” he ground out. “I’m not kidding. Go now.”

No. She knew Wolf better than anyone. She couldn’t leave him like this.

She shook her head. “Let him out,” she said softly. “I’m not afraid of Wolf.”

“Raven—”

She held his eyes with hers. “Stop controlling him,” she said. “It hurts you both. Let him out.”

She could see he was losing control. With an agonized roar, he let himself fall forward, his flesh rippling and his bones cracking. By the time his hands hit the floor, he was Wolf.

Rachelle had almost forgotten how magnificent he was. Even in a rage, his muzzle contorted in a snarl, he was beautiful. Gray shading to black, with a white ruff around his neck and white in his tail, and a streak of white above each eye, like eyebrows.

He gave a snarling howl and paced in a half-circle, ears flattened and eyes on her, poised to attack.

He could kill her, right here right now. But still, her heart went out to him. Poor Wolf. He was so unhappy.

She gathered all her courage. “Come here,” she said, holding out a hand.

His snarl grew a little less, and his ears came up.

“Come on,” she said, keeping her tone low and soothing. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He took one hesitant step toward her, then another. He was watching her warily, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. She waited, her hand still out in an invitation.

She hoped he wouldn’t bite it off.