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I found myself looking my fill of him as well. His broad shoulders. His wide chest. The white T-shirt stretched across his torso. It didn’t hide his defined muscles. It accentuated them, showcased them. His biceps were huge, his forearms powerful. I could see the veins running under his golden skin.
My mouth watered.
I looked lower, his thighs as thick as tree trunks, strong and sturdy. And then I was staring at his massive erection that tented his worn, broken-in jeans he’d changed into. My throat tightened. Another cramp ignited in my belly.
My gaze found itself latched onto his neck. At his jugular. Even from the distance, I could see it pulsing under his flesh. Another wave hit me. A churn in my belly. A twinge of discomfort.
I reached out and placed a hand on the edge of the door, unable to draw my focus from that thick vein that pounded. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
And then I suddenly knew what was wrong. I realized what was happening.
I wanted sex. With this male.
I wanted blood. From my mate.
Bloodlust hit me harder than ever at the realization. I’d never experienced this before, not when I’d had blood readily available growing up.
But over the last week, I’d had no appetite, barely consuming the nutrients I needed, because the stress and worry had been too much.
I sucked in a harsh breath, growing even more dizzy.
The small amount I’d taken from Luca in the woods when he’d made me orgasm hadn’t been enough. Not nearly. No. My body wanted more. More of what flowed through his veins. And another part of me—the intimate, wet, throbbing part between my thighs—wanted the thick, hard length that only Luca could give me.
I swayed as arousal and bloodlust mingled.
“Oh gods,” I whispered, and he growled and took another step closer.
“My female is in need of me.” He let his gaze roam up and down my body before staring at my mouth, at my very lengthened fangs. They ached. They throbbed. I wanted to pierce his neck and drink from him at the same time he pushed all that male length into my virgin body. “My little mate needs all of me.”
I licked my lips. They were so dry, my throat too, my belly cramping with the thought of what he’d fill me with. Everywhere.
“I’m so hungry, Luca.” Those words were a broken whisper from me. I looked at his huge erection. I swore I saw it jerk from my stare alone. “I’m so, so hungry for you.”
His head was lowered, his eyes still on mine. Run, was his unspoken command. Run and I’ll chase you. Run and I’ll catch you.
He was the predator.
And I wanted to be his prey.
21
Luca
It only took her a moment of standing still, not breathing, not even blinking, before I saw the realization of what I wanted—of what she ultimately wanted too—to click right into place.
My little mate might’ve been a virgin, so much younger than me, and sheltered her whole life, but instinct took over in this moment.
“Go on, my little hybrid. Run for your mate. Let me chase you as our kind reveres. Let me claim you in the forest as my inner animal demands.”
She panted for only a second before she was gone, her tiny body a flitter of motion as she rushed out the bedroom door.
I gave her a head start, forcing myself to stay still, my hands curling against my thighs, my claws tearing at the denim. If I didn’t let her go first, this would be over far too quickly. And I wanted—needed—this to last. I wanted to make this so fucking good for her that Ainslee would see how devoted her mate was to her, that even if he was ruled by his primal side, he could think rationally.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep my sane side dominant, because I knew the longer I held that reality, the better chance Ainslee would be able to handle my passion. She’d know what she was up against.
I heard her take the stairs, and I slowly opened my eyes, baring my teeth and unable to stop myself any longer. I let a low growl leave me as I fucking anticipated the hunt. I rolled my head around on my neck, hearing it crack, feeling the muscles stretch.
My wolf demanded I take her in the savage, wolf way.
And then I let my beast free.
I was out of the room, my feet pounding on the hardwood flooring as I went after her. I could see her taking those last few steps that would have her on the landing, and just a few more feet and she’d be outside. I could have taken her in the bed, against the wall, hell, right there in the foyer. It wouldn’t have mattered, because I’d be claiming her.
But my wolf wanted—needed—this hunt. He needed this first time to be outside where she ran because her own Lycan instinct demanded she submit.
