He clears his throat to get her attention and she whirls around. The sight of her steals his breath for a second.
She is disarmingly beautiful and definitely older than he had originally thought. Perhaps in her early twenties. Her skin is pale and flawless, twin tints of pink on her cheeks the only sign of her embarrassment. Golden locks curl at her shoulders, framing her cheeks that have not yet lost the baby fat of youth.
"May I help you?" he asks, stepping forward and standing deliberately too close to her, making her take a step back until her back is kissing the shelf and she has nowhere else to run.
"I um- I don't-" she stutters, her voice low and breathy as she looks around, as though searching for an exit route.
It shouldn't make him more aroused, but it does. She wears her innocence so prettily, tempting him to take, to own. She would look so lovely once he ruins her, wide grey eyes even rendered wider when he fucks her.
She's a full head shorter than him and has to tilt her head up to look at him. "Which book do were you trying to reach?" he asks.
She flushes and bites her lip nervously.
He thinks of sucking her lip from between her teeth and tasting her. He doesn't do any of the things he's thinking, wary of scaring her off. Erik is a good hunter. He knows about laying traps and luring prey. It won't do him any good to have her frightened of him so early in the game.
"Is it this one?" he says, pulling out a book at random, standing close enough that the tips of her ears are brushing his chin. This close, he is able to have the full potency of her scent. He knows it was a mistake the moment the scent reaches his nose and fills his lungs. He is suddenly overcome by the desire to take her right there, tear her clothes off and rut into her, claim her as his own so that everyone would know she belongs to him and only him. He wants her to smell like him, wants her filled with his seed and have her carry his cubs. Would their children have her ears? They're lovely ears.
"That's not it," she says at length, pupils blown wide, peering up at him through long lashes.
He wants to ruin her, wants to throw her over his shoulder and carry her home. He wants to fuck into her tight pussy until she is sobbing in the pretty little voice, until her body is trembling for him and his knot is thick and hard inside of her.
"Sir?" she whispers, "What's wrong?"
It is the tremble in her voice that brings him to his senses. If he were to do any of the things he was thinking, he would terrify her. It's clear that she's innocent. "Which one is it, then?" he asks, unable to keep the rumbling growl from his own voice.
She points to the book a romance book with a dancing couple on the front page, a second of trilogy. She blushes when he hands it to her, quickly clutching it to her chest like she's afraid he would snatch it back given the opportunity. It looks like one of those raunchy books that
"Thank you, Mr..."
"Just Erik, please," he says. "Erik Hunter."
"Thank you, Mr. Hunter, Sir," she murmurs, ducking her head to slide out of his shadow.
He reacts without thinking, one arm lunging out to slam on the row of books by her head, stopping her in her tracks.
She startles, blinking up at him in confusion. "Is there anything wrong, Sir?" she asks.
He yanks his hand back instantly. "Nothing," he says, pushing his Wolf back. He doesn't know if he can handle seeing her walk away but he knows he will have to do it. He'll have other opportunities to have her.
Her smile is small and amused when she turns her back to him and hops away.
He watches her leave with a heavy heart and waits a good thirty seconds after she approaches the front desk and leaves through the door before heading towards the old man.
"Hello," he says, attempting for casual.
"Why, good morning!" the old man laughs, wrinkles appearing everywhere on his face. "You must be new here," he says in a booming voice that shouldn't be allowed in libraries.
"I must be," he says. "I would like to make an account," Erik says swiftly.
"An account? Whatever for?"
He frowns. "To borrow books?"
"Yes, of course. You just need to write your name in the binder and have the book back the next time you're here. No need for accounts. What's your name, boy?"
Erik bites the inside of his cheek and channels his inner politician as he musters a smile. "Erik Hunter. I'm here on vacation."
"You must be one of those historians, eh? We have a lovely section. Perhaps you'd like a look? I could show you," he says, already moving to stand, though it looks as though it would take him a while to pull himself up.