I… I recognize him.
“It’s you,” I whisper, my eyes flaring wide. The man who nearly hit me the night I ran away from my uncle. I recall vividly the way his car skidded sideways before my hands slapped the metal, our eyes locking in mutual shock.
Now his eyes widen too, and his gaze sweeps over my face again as if he’s trying to put the pieces together himself. One hand releases my arm and his fingers slide up to brush against my face.
He cocks his head, the movement so animalistic he might as well still be in wolf form.
“You hit my car.” His voice is a deep rumble.
“Sorry about that,” I murmur, even though if anybody should be sorry, it’s him. He could have killed me. But I’m too distracted by the tingles his fingers are sending along my nerve endings. Some part of me recognizes that he’s released me. He’s not holding me against him anymore.
I could back away. I could run. I could scream for Ridge and the others.
Then the man’s fingers slip into my hair. A fresh jolt of electric sensation skitters through me as he fists the strands lightly, holding them close to the roots. It’s not painful, but there’s something so commanding, so dominant in the gesture, that it makes a flush of liquid heat fill my core.
“What’s your name?”
“Sable.” The whisper comes out hoarse, and even I can hear the desire underlying it. I want this man. Something within me wants this man, and she’s roaring to have him. I struggle to clamp down on that crazy sensation, on the overwhelming need to crawl into his arms. “You?”
“Dare.”
A thrill tickles along my spine. Even though I know he’s telling me his name, it almost sounds like a command on its own.
Dare you.
I’ve never considered myself brave or reckless or daring. I’ve lived a great deal of my life in fear, tiptoeing around my uncle and measuring days in degrees of awfulness. Before running away from Clint, I rarely thought about what I did want, focusing instead on what I didn’t.
But right now, as I stare up into this beautiful stranger’s eyes, all I can think about is the one thing I want most in the entire world. The thing that calls to me like the moon calls to a wolf, begging me to reach out and take it.
Dare you.
Before I know what’s happening, before I can register whether he moved first or I did, I’m on my tiptoes, my body pressed against his.
And I’m kissing him.
His grip on my hair tightens a little, angling my head as he kisses me back, and the small bite of pain sends another shock of arousal through me. His other hand wraps around me, his palm cupping my ass to tug me tighter against his erection. As I wrap my arms around his neck, he opens his mouth, his tongue licking along my lips. The motion sends heat spiraling through me, and I move against him, the hard length of him sliding between us.
Our kiss deepens, tongues dancing. My nightgown bunches beneath his hand, and his fingers dip deeper, brushing the outer boundaries of territory that no man has ever touched. I don’t even know him, but that doesn’t make a single difference to me in this moment as I open my legs wider, practically begging for him to keep searching, to go farther.
The kiss deepens until I’m drowning in him, in his taste, in the wild scent of him. His hand moves from my hair to my chest, and he palms my breast, his thumb brushing over the peak of my nipple in a slow movement that sets my body on fire. I arch into his hand, my fingers tangling in his hair.
I want more.
So much more.
I feel like I’m outside myself as I lift a leg and wrap it around his hips. Nothing separates us now but the thin cotton of my underwear, and it’s still too damn much. I rub against him, reveling in his gasp against my lips. He grabs my thigh, hauling my leg higher, opening me wider. My body has a mind of its own, and the feeling of his hard length rubbing against my core outside my panties turns me even more mindless with need.
“Jesus. You taste like fucking sunshine,” he growls, dragging his mouth from mine before moving his lips downward to press against the curve of my jaw.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I hold on to him for dear life as he devours the skin of my throat, scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh. I didn’t know it could feel like this, to have a man’s lips on that part of my body. I’m growing a little more familiar with the way a kiss can spread heat all the way through my limbs, warming me up from the inside out.
But this?
I can hardly catch my breath as he nips and sucks at my skin, sending bursts of sensation skittering through me. When he draws my earlobe into his mouth and bites down on it, I let out a soft cry, digging my fingernails into his shou
lders as I grind against him.
How is this possible? How can one body contain all the feelings tearing through me right now?