Stolen and Forgiven (Branded Packs #1)(48)

No male was allowed near his female.

Not unless he had a death wish.

Now he buried his face in Cora’s neck, ignoring the damn collar as he breathed deeply of her scent. Anything to try and ease his snarling beast.

He felt her revealing tremors even as her nails pressed into his skin, the kiss of pain nearly making his cock explode.

Shit. He’d already scratched being a gentleman off the list. It looked like the whole ‘going slow’ thing was f*cked, as well.

“I thought we agreed that we would try to avoid each other?” she asked, her voice not entirely steady.

His hands slid down her arms, savoring the brush of cashmere beneath his palms. Not that he wouldn’t have preferred her bare skin.

One step at a time.

“Just think how disappointed you’d be if I gave you what you wanted,” he murmured, nuzzling the pulse that pounded at the base of her throat just below the collar.

“Disappointed?”

“How can you make me suffer for the past if we’re never together?”

“If I wanted you to suffer, I would have sliced off your dick,” she said.

He chuckled, as always delighted by her fierce spirit. His wolf needed a female who wasn’t afraid to stand up to him.

“I’m sincerely glad you resisted that particular form of retaliation,” he said, pressing his rock-hard erection against her hip.

A groan was wrenched from his throat. Oh…hell. He needed to be inside of her.

Deep, deep inside.

“Why are you here?”

He licked her pulse point, delighted when he felt her heart skip a beat.

“Do you love the cat?”

She stilled, no doubt considering whether or not she could use the other male as a way to keep him at a distance. But Cora wasn’t a female who needed to hide behind lies and deceit. If she decided she didn’t want him around, she’d kick his ass out the door.

“No, but he’s a sensible choice for a partner,” she at last muttered.

“Don’t.” He lifted his head to study her with a pained expression. “Never settle for less than a true mate.”

Their gazes locked, her body softening against him as she briefly allowed herself to forget he was the enemy. But even as his hands spanned her waist, intending to haul her against his aching body, she was giving him a rough shove so she could step away.

“What I decide about my mate is none of your business,” she told him, bristling with annoyance.

With him? Or herself for nearly giving in to temptation?

His wolf snarled, pressing against his skin. His beast didn’t understand man-games. It didn’t want to deny the mutual arousal that simmered between them. Not when he’d waited so long to claim this female.

Thankfully, his wolf did comprehend the need for patience when hunting his prey.

“Fine.” He managed to leash his raging lust. Barely. “Then perhaps I can interest you in something that is my business.”

She eyed him with a frown. “What?”

He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“I need to show you.” He deliberately held her gaze, silently challenging her.

Tension hummed around her. He got it. She didn’t trust him.

That didn’t mean he liked it.

Not. At. All.

At last, she heaved a resigned sigh and placed her hand in his. No doubt she sensed he wasn’t leaving until she’d given in to his request.

Smart enough not to give her time to change her mind, Soren tugged her toward the trees and across the compound to his secluded home.

He’d moved into the four-room cabin shortly after Leah’s death, giving up his larger house to a mated couple with children. As long as he had a bed and a roof over his head, he was content.

Now, as he pulled a reluctant Cora through the front door, he didn’t miss her quick glance around the small living room that held a worn sofa and matching chair. There were no pictures on the wall, no shelves or pretty doo-dads that women loved to clutter up a space.

It was starkly masculine, with books stacked haphazardly on the floor, and a backpack filled with his dirty laundry tossed in the corner.

Seeming to realize the intimacy of being alone in his home, she gave a tug of her hand, trying to free her fingers.

“Soren.”

“I genuinely need your advice,” he overrode her protest, continuing to pull her through a doorway on the other side of the living room into the narrow kitchen at the back of the cabin.

“If this is a trick,” she muttered.

“Have a seat,” he softly commanded, urging her into one of the high bar chairs set next to the island in the center of the room.

The space was too small for a dining table, but it did have a row of windows that overlooked the garden. And, thankfully, he’d cleaned the night before. His fastidious cat could be a little whacko when it came to his casual approach to neatness.

His lips twitched as he moved to the refrigerator. He vividly remembered having Cora constantly tidying whenever he’d stayed the night.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Pulling out the necessary ingredients, Soren moved to the stove. He may not be a neat freak, but he was one hell of a chef.

“Cooking you breakfast.”

“What makes you think I’m hungry?”