Chapter 15: Embrace of the Wolf
Isla barely recognized her own heartbeat, it raced with the kind of wild rhythm that only came with surrender, with something too big to contain. Damian stood over her like a storm wrapped in flesh, his body humming with restrained power. His eyes, silver and endless, never left hers, even as the space between them disappeared entirely.
Her skin burned beneath his touch. It wasn’t hurried now—it was deliberate, reverent, as if each inch of her body had to be memorized by his hands alone. His palm cupped her cheek, fingers sweeping down the line of her jaw, and it took everything she had not to close her eyes and melt into him. But she didn’t want to miss a moment. Not now and especially not with him.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low, roughened by everything he felt but didn’t yet say. His thumb brushed across her lower lip. “But you’ve always been more than that. You’re everything.”
She swallowed hard, breath catching. “Then take everything,” she said, the words a whisper and a challenge all at once.
A growl rumbled in his throat, not of anger but of some primal surrender, as if the predator within him recognized its mate fully and completely. He pressed her back gently, guiding her until her spine met the cool wall behind her. His body followed, every inch of him aligned with hers, and the contact stole her breath.
The heat between them bloomed like wildfire.
His lips found hers again, this time deeper, slower, more commanding. His kiss was not just an expression of desire; it was a claim, one she returned with everything in her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, while his hands slid down her waist, gripping her as though letting go would kill him.
The feel of him, solid muscle, warm skin, heat and control, was almost too much. She moaned into his mouth, and he devoured the sound, his hands roaming her body with purpose. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist with instinctive ease. She felt his breath hitch when their hips aligned, and he held her there, suspended in a tension that bordered on unbearable.
“I need you,” he whispered against her throat, his lips tracing her pulse. “Not just your body. All of you.”
“You have me,” she breathed, pressing her forehead to his. “You always have.”
Damian’s steps were slow, deliberate, as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down with a gentleness that betrayed his raw strength, like she was something fragile he had vowed never to break. Moonlight streamed through the tall window, casting her skin in silver, making her glow like something otherworldly. He knelt beside the bed, gaze sweeping over her like a man haunted by beauty he could scarcely believe was real. His fingers brushed the side of her body with reverence, igniting sparks in her blood, and his breath hitched at the sight of her surrender.
His hands reached for the hem of her shirt, and he hesitated, not out of uncertainty, but reverence.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
Isla nodded. “Yes.”
He peeled the fabric from her body, eyes never leaving hers, as if afraid she might vanish if he looked away. When she was bare to him, his breath caught.
“You’re... breathtaking.”
She reached for him in return, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel him without barrier. He let her pull it over his head, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and the scars that told stories she hadn’t yet heard. She touched them all, tracing them with her fingertips, watching as he trembled under her touch.
“You’re beautiful too,” she said, her voice husky.
Their lips met again, but the urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. His hands roamed her curves, sliding over her hips, her stomach, the swell of her breasts. Every place he touched became fire, her skin hypersensitive to every brush of his fingertips, every scrape of his stubble.
She arched into him, desperate for more, and Damian growled against her neck. “You drive me insane,” he muttered. “But it’s the kind of madness I’d live a thousand lives to feel again.”
When his mouth closed around her nipple, Isla gasped, her body jerking involuntarily. His tongue circled, teased, tasted, and then his hand slid between her thighs. She was already soaked, her body aching for him, ready in every way. But he didn’t rush. He teased her, traced her folds, stroked until she was writhing beneath him, panting his name like a prayer.
“Damian, please,” she begged, voice breaking with need.
He kissed her again, and as he positioned himself above her, he met her gaze one last time. “There’s no going back from this, Isla.”
“I don’t want to,” she whispered. “I want you. All of you.”