Chapter 73

Chapter 73

“And anyway, never, never apologize for the morning after for what your hormones were telling you last night.”

Paul Russell

It wasn’t on my bucket list to wake up in the middle of the woods, naked, and wrapped in the warmth of my mate after he’d thoroughly fucked me the night before…but I certainly can’t complain.

Even with my supernatural healing, I was still a little sore, and the first sound out of my mouth as I shifted in the morning was a groan.

“Are you alright, little wolf?”

It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the morning sun bearing down on me, but once I did, I caught sight of Ambrose’s face inches away, his eyes fixed on mine.

“How long have you been looking at me like that?” I couldn’t help but ask, a flush already creeping up my cheeks.

He didn’t bother looking away. “I woke a few minutes before you did,” he said, and then I felt one of his fingers brush a strand of hair from my face. Given last night’s activities – and the fact that I’d slept on a bed of leaves – I could only imagine the tangled rat’s nest that would be my hair for the next day. “You looked so peaceful…I simply couldn’t bare to look away.” He paused before adding, “Are you in any pain? You groaned a moment ago.”

“Not really pain,” I said, “Maybe a little soreness.” I flushed harder as I remembered the source of that soreness. Ambrose had spent hours filling me to the hilt, pounding into me at superhuman speed.

“Perhaps I can help with that,” he said, and in a flash, his large hand was pressed to the area he’d spent most of the night defiling. His hand lit up blue, and the pain immediately disappeared, leaving nothing but lingering warmth behind.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, “I’m a wolf. A couple of hours, and I’m sure I would’ve been good as new.”

Ambrose leaned down until we were nose to nose, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the morning sun radiated off his tanned skin. He was always beautiful, but in moments like these, he looked particularly ethereal.

“I always fix whatever I break,” he murmured, “Although I must admit, part of me was tempted to just let you heal on your own…let the soreness serve as a reminder that you belong to me.”

My breath hitched. As if I needed another reminder of Ambrose’s presence.

“Last night,” I said, “When you hunted me down like that…” I swallowed, “I liked it.”

His eyes darkened ever so slightly, and he cocked his head curiously. “You enjoyed feeling like my prey, little wolf?”

I nodded hesitantly.

*Prey* was typically a term reserved for the small game I’d chase through the woods in my wolf form, and then sink my teeth into later on.

And Ambrose had definitely sunk his teeth into me last night.

I wasn’t even sure why I felt the need to admit it, but I did. The thrill of the hunt, being chased – it wasn’t a fantasy I could ever remember having on my own, but with Ambrose, I’d certainly enjoyed it.

He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you enjoy being overpowered by me,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean exactly that,” he replied, and as he said it, one of his hands moved to caress my cheek. “I think you enjoy the fight. More specifically, fighting me off.” His hand moved lower, his thumb resting over my right carotid artery. “And I think you enjoy losing.”

“Losing?” I repeated, and there was a twinge of defensiveness in my tone. “I don’t know if I’d say that. Nobody enjoys losing.”

Ambrose’s full lips curled with the hint of a teasing smirk. “Oh, there’s no shame in losing, little wolf,” he said, “Especially when you put up a good fight.”

“Why would I like losing?” I asked.

“I don’t mean you like losing in general,” he said, “Only that I think you enjoy losing to me.” The teasing smirk got larger.

“Well, I think you’re wrong,” I shot back, and I wasn’t even sure why I was so defensive about it. Maybe it was because it felt like he was unearthing a new part of me I hadn’t known existed – or maybe I just wanted to wipe that patronizing smirk off his face.

“Am I?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Perhaps I was mistaken then,” he said, but his tone suggested that he didn’t feel like he was mistaken. “I just thought you might enjoy the thrill of putting up a fight because you like what happens when it’s over.” He pressed a kiss to my jaw, and I tried to pretend as if I didn’t shiver when his cool breath ghosted over the shell of my ear. “And you do know what happens when it’s over, don’t you, little wolf?”

I could hardly breathe with him so close, let alone say a word, but he didn’t seem to mind my lack of response. “When it’s over, and you’ve lost and I’ve won, I get to take what I want.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“I like to think of it as a little game,” he continued.

I couldn’t really argue with that terminology – the way he’d chased me through the woods last night had felt reminiscent of hide-and-seek. Just a much more adult version of it.

“Maybe a rigged game,” I couldn’t help but add.

Ambrose’s smile widened and I caught the flash of his canines in the sun. “Rigged is right,” he said, “And do you know why it’s a rigged game, my little wolf?”

I knew the answer, and still, I found myself shaking my head.

“Because it doesn’t matter how much of a fight you put up. You could use every ounce of strength in your body, and I’d overpower you everytime,” he told me, his voice barely above a growl, “I’d take what I want every single time, and despite the fight you might put up, you’ll want me to.”

I swallowed.

Suddenly, I felt vulnerable and exposed, stripped down like a live wire buzzing with electricity.

“Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?” I asked hesitantly. “That I sometimes like…playing this game?” I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t imagine enjoying this with anyone else but him, but I had a feeling he already knew that.

Ambrose’s eyes turned soft. “Not at all, little wolf,” he murmured, “There isn’t a thing I’d change about you.” He paused, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my lips. “Or a game I wouldn’t play with you.”