Strong fingers wrap around my wrist, yanking me backward. I barely have time to gasp before Seth drags me around a corner and into a shadowed alcove next to a tapestry. His hand catches my jaw, tilting my face up so I have to look him in the eyes.
“You let him kiss you.” His voice is a furious whisper, rough with hunger and rage. “I warned you, Selene.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t you dare—”
His mouth crashes onto mine, swallowing the rest of my protest.
The kiss is nothing like Zane’s careful, calculated touch. This is fire and fury, possession and punishment. Seth’s tongue demands entry, and my traitorous lips part for him willingly. He tastes like anger and want and something uniquely him that makes my wolf sing with joy.
For three weeks, I’ve been avoiding him—pretending he doesn’t exist, running away every time I catch his scent. My wolf has been whimpering and pacing the entire time, missing what she shouldn’t have to miss.
And now, she’s drowning in satisfaction.
My hands grab Seth’s shirt, pulling him closer when I should be pushing him away. The mate bond roars to life between us, hot and insistent, making my skin burn everywhere we touch. His hand slides into my hair, gripping tight enough to sting, angling my head exactly where he wants it.
I should stop this. Should shove him away and run. But my body has other ideas.
I deepen the kiss, and his answering growl rumbles against my lips, a low, dangerous sound that vibrates through me. My hands slip lower, tugging, pulling. I don’t even know what I’m doing—only that I can’t stop. My mind is going hazy, every thought blurring into a single desperate need: more.
Seth breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur against my mouth, “We’re in the open. Anyone could see.”
“I don’t care,” I breathe, my lips chasing his, the words shocking me even as they spill out. I don’t care. I should, but my wolf is clawing at my insides, and all I want is his touch.
He curses under his breath, a vicious sound, and then his mouth finds mine again. One of his hands grasps me by the nape of my neck while the other slides lower, dragging across my waist, my hip, then pressing hard against the front of my pants.
My gasp is swallowed by his tongue as his fingers work the button and plunge beneath the waistband, pushing the fabric down just enough to claim what he wants. Heat scorches through me when his calloused hand finds my slick folds.
“You think you can run from me for weeks,” he growls against my lips, his words hot and obscene, “and then melt the second I touch you?” His fingers slide over my clit in slow, punishing circles that make my legs tremble.
A strangled cry comes out of me, but he swallows it with a bruising kiss, his tongue thrusting deep, forcing me to choke down my own moans.
Then his hand shifts lower, and two thick fingers push inside me in one relentless thrust. The stretch steals my breath,rough and perfect, filling me so completely that my walls clench tight around him. My body jerks, back arching into his chest as the air leaves me in a ragged gasp.
“Fuck,” he snarls against my mouth, feeling the way I’m clamping down on him. “So tight around my fingers. You should’ve known you couldn’t run from this.”
He pulls those fingers out almost all the way, then drives them back in, curling up hard until sparks explode behind my eyes. My nails dig into his shoulders as I feel helpless, every thrust causing a whimper that he devours with his mouth.
The thickness of his fingers stretches me open again and again, each pump harder, deeper, wetter. His palm rubs against my clit with every stroke, making me grind back on his hand without even realizing it.
“That’s it,” he whispers, filthy and relentless. “Ride my hand. Show me how bad you need it.”
My hips buck without my permission, chasing the friction, relishing the sharp curl of his knuckles as he fucks me harder. The wet slap of his fingers plunging in and out of me fills the alcove, drowned out only by the frantic press of our mouths.
“You’re dripping all over my hand,” he growls, rough and vicious. “Soaked through your fucking pants for me. Look at you—squirming, moaning, desperate for more.”
Every word sears into me, each thrust wringing me tighter, winding me higher. My wolf howls inside my head, clawing and thrashing for release, for him, for everything I’ve been denying.
The coil snaps violently. Pleasure rips through me in jagged, shattering waves, my entire body convulsing around his fingers as I come undone. My cry bursts free against his mouth, smothered by his kiss, every sound swallowed as he drives me through it, fucking me with his hand until I’m shaking and weak.
Finally, he stops, slowly dragging his soaked fingers out of me. They glisten in the dim light as he holds them to my lips, eyes dark and merciless. “Clean them.”
Shame and hunger war inside me. But my mouth opens obediently, and my tongue curls around his fingers, tasting myself while his gaze devours me.
When he finally pulls them free, his hand shifts to my jaw, holding me captive to the fury and possession blazing in his eyes. His voice is low, dangerous, meant for me alone.
“Go to your room”—his thumb brushes over my swollen lip—“and wait for me like a good girl.”
These words trigger a violent shiver down my spine. My knees wobble, heat blooming fresh between my thighs, but I nod, trembling, unable to stop the pulse of desire that floods me all over again.
