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A figure appears out of nowhere, peeking between the break of trees, silent as an assassin. I cry out as a hand reaches between the wide trunks, wrapping tightly around my wrist before pulling me back against his chest. Not giving my body the chance to shut down and freeze, I fight with everything I have in me—arms thrashing, body spinning. My hands slap at his arms and face, my fingers curling into claws as they rake through the air, trying to find purchase.
“Calm down, Little Dove.” A steady, deep voice brushes against my ear, strong arms wrapping around me.
I know that voice.
The scream in my throat dies, turns to ash, and floats away on a cool mountain breeze.
The heat of his breath tickles my skin, and gooseflesh pebbles my skin. His arm around my waist isn’t tight, not like the one holding my arms against my torso. His hand... his hand is pressed into my abdomen, his fingers barely brushing my hip bone. Close, so close to the area he watched me touch. His fingers trail across that exposed flesh like he’s remembering that moment too.
When I spin to face him again, he allows it, but that hand stays splayed across my flesh, circling my hip now, fingers grazing my open, exposed back.
My breasts lift with each deep inhale and exhale of breath, my eyes holding his. Neither of us speaks. Not that I would know what to say even if I could form words. Which doesn’t seem likely. Not with the way he’s peering into my eyes, into my soul. My nipples harden, perking up, bright and eager.
My core tightens with the look he gives me. Predatory and hungry. If he were an animal, he’d be a wolf, and I’d be his prey. The thought doesn’t scare me. It excites me. Moisture is pooling between my thighs once again, all sense of self-preservation abandoning me.
I want to be devoured.
Consumed.
His eyes dart to my lips, swollen and plump from the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. My tongue slips out, moistening them, readying them. In some distant part of my soul, I know this man is one twitch away from attacking.
And I welcome it.
Without giving either of us a chance to reconsider, I lean forward and press my lips to his.
