Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Caine: Control (Or Lack Thereof)

CAINE

I shouldn’t be here.

Not like this, ogling my mate when she’s still weak and exhausted.

But I’m weak to the temptation wrapped in her skin, to the overwhelming scent of blueberry muffins in this space, and to the indecent fantasies taking up most of my thoughts.

Jack-Eye said he learned a new trick, Fenris reminds me.

I hadn’t paid much attention at the time, and now I regret it. I’ll have to ask Jack-Eye for more details. The thought of asking him for details of his sex life is... not appealing.

But he’d mentioned one crucial point: it didn’t require touching.

My eyes darken as I curse the me of yesterday, too impatient to deal with Jack-Eye’s perverted ramblings while I worried about bringing my frail mate back to the pack she’d escaped.

Against my better judgment, my hand reaches out. The pathetic square of cloth peels away from its clinging embrace, baring the whole of her breasts to my view.

Satisfaction rumbles in my chest, and her nipples tighten in the humid air.

I barely keep myself from groaning.

She exhales, a shuddering little breath, and it instantly drags out memories of her flushed beneath me, responsive to my every touch.

Focus.

Taxes. Rogue disputes. Jack-Eye’s dissertation on scat identification when we were pups. All topics to cool the fire burning in my loins, and yet—

Nothing works. Not with her standing there, droplets sliding down her skin, wetness darkening the waist of her thin panties.

The attraction of a mate bond is brutal for any wolf, but this—this is torture beyond what I imagined possible. Every day I’ve kept my hands off her deserves a goddamn medal. The longer we go without feeding the bond, the worse it gets, like an addiction crawling beneath my skin.

Control yourself. Fenris’s voice rumbles through my thoughts, unusually serious.

mind assents, but

much control do you have over the energy transfer now?"

last thing I should be doing

her bottom lip, and blood rushes to places

Fuck.

forward, the space between us shrinking, and I remind myself she’s not in control. She’s as much of a victim to this mate bond as I am. Perhaps more, as

would keep his damn hands at

not a

learned a little," she whispers, "but

little downturned mouth I’m desperate to taste. Either that or I’m utterly depraved, painting her with seduction when she’s just standing

a step back, putting precious inches between us before I do something

brow I probably wouldn’t have caught if I weren’t staring at her so intently. But then she

My hands twitch.

mouth opens on its own. "Do you need help?"

washing herself,

okay to help

touch her, my

hair over her

My mouth goes dry.

to clear my head. The scent of her fills my lungs instead, making my cock twitch and my

to death without remorse. I can stand in a tiny bathroom with my

The question comes out through gritted

and I feel like

washing," she says softly. "I was just... hot and sweaty. Trying to get a

Hot. Sweaty. Relief.

jeans. Every word out of her mouth might as well be foreplay. I turn to the sink and adjust

not some sex-deprived

control this level of

Sure you can.

Damn wolf.

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