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Chapter 10
Meira
Imust be insane to even contemplate this. Bardhyl is a freaking horny wolf who sees this as an opportune time. Why can’t I get the memory of our kiss out of my head? How I desperately clung to him, needing so much more of him, how I sensed the ache easing while in his arms, just as I did with the other two Alphas.
I sidestep to get away from him, to catch my breath because I’m drowning in my own arousal. When I look at him, a fogginess clouds my judgment. Even now, his smell is all over me—the musky wolf, the freshness of rain on his skin, even the mud on his shoes.
There’s no denying it. I’ve thought of kissing him since our first encounter at the pack fortress. Then again, I felt that way about Dušan and Lucien. And, well, look where that got me. Now I’m stuck in a cave during a storm with a Viking hunk, and instead of flat-out driving him away, I’m contemplating some crazy game where he turns me on and I have to tell him to stop. Who does that?
“Meira,” he calls to me, but I keep my back to him, needing to find some sense of rationality about this situation and for my cheeks to cease burning.
“I don’t think this is…” I start, but then he steps close in behind me. The heat of his body pours over me, and I seem to have lost my ability to think.
“What’s that, cupcake?”
Inhaling deeply, I reach inside and track down a sliver of common sense, then manage to say, “I vote for sitting by the fire and trying to sleep. Your idea is crazy. We’re not doing it.”
An ache sits heavily in my lower stomach, just like it did before Lucien and Dušan took me, and now it stirs again. It’s my wolf, rising to the occasion.
Maybe for my wolf, I should give this a go. If Bardhyl’s presence awakens her, I’ll regret never attempting to bring her out. I want to laugh out loud at my ridiculous reasoning. As much as part of that is true, I can’t get the image of his nakedness by the river out of my head. His large cock, his large hands, his promise of what he’ll do to me. His presence alone squeezes my libido.
Maybe some women can push away such a man, and I always thought I’d be the same. Apparently, I’m wrong. I’m just a wolf in heat. My resistance is a thin façade with cracks threading through the surface.
I turn to face him, my chin high, wearing my bravery, which is a terrible mistake. That earlier resistance has crumbled around me.
The moment I lay eyes on him and discover he’s just in his jeans, the top button open, I forget my argument. When did he take his shirt off? “That’s very presumptuous of you.” I eye his Adonis-like chest that leaves me weak. “I haven’t agreed to your crazy idea.”
“Let me tell you what you’re thinking.” He reaches over and slides a strand of hair that was caught in my lashes behind an ear, but I bat his hand away. “In your mind, you will slip away from me and never see me again. Yet the idea of finding out the truth about what’s in your blood is tempting, isn’t it? Should you play my game and gain some information, or forget it because you’ve lived this long without knowing? What difference would it make, right?”
I narrow my gaze at him.
“You know I’m right.”
“And if you are, then you’re an asshole for using a piece of important information to get into my pants.”
Hetsksat me. “I said you would be mine for the night. Who said anything about sex?” He smirks evilly. “When I win, you will give me a full body massage all night long.”
I roll my eyes hard at him. “You love playing games, don’t you? I can see the way your eyes twinkle as you twist everything around your words. But I can tell you now that when we kiss, you will be shocked at how quickly you will lose.”
“So that’s ayesthen?” He sticks out his hand to make this official, and I accept because he may be right about my intentions, but I will burn in hell before I let him know he’s right. He always brings out the competitive side of me, I’ve noticed.
He suddenly backs away and stands by the fire just in his jeans. Even his boots and socks are off. My toes wriggle around in my wet shoes. I follow suit and toe them off before returning to the heat.
“So,” I say amid the strange awkwardness, “are we doing this?”
“Whenever you’re ready. I always let the woman make the first move so it’s clear they want this and I’m not forcing them to do anything against their will.”
He stares into the fire as he talks, his hands stretched out, and I’m trying to decipher the expression on his face. He gives nothing away.
“Did you learn that from Dušan?” I ask, remembering my first time with the Alpha and how he pulled away when I hesitated after he went down on me. It had nothing to do with pleasure, because I still shiver at the memory of his tongue on my pussy. It was the fear of what my wolf would do.
But a simple kiss with Bardhyl I can do with my eyes closed. I move toward him, and he doesn’t even look my way. He stands so tall and muscular, his nose slightly crooked, which only adds to his attractiveness. Spectacular green eyes that I want to dive into, and long, blond hair tumbling over his shoulders and falling to his chest. But my gaze lingers on his bicep for a bit too long and then shifts over to the tightness of his abs, the way the firelight dances over his perfect body… all sharp angles and cuts. He has to be a Viking god, because how else can one person be so perfect?
But if anyone is not going to be able to sayno, it will be him. I press closer to him, nudging my breasts against his side on purpose. He swings an arm around me while pivoting his whole body to face me.
Danger and arousal swirl behind his gaze. I push myself against him once more, my hands planted on his hardened pecs that twitch beneath my touch, which he does for show.
“Bardhyl.” I breathe his name on a moan. “You are not doing a good job of winning me over.”
