Chapter 6: The Lodge

He went still against my throat.

The fire popped in the grate.

"You don't know what you're asking," he said.

"I know exactly what I'm asking."

I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back until I could see his face.

His eyes were amber again, and so dark they were nearly brown.

There was blood drying down his neck from the bite on his shoulder.

My own back burned where the cousins had raked it.

Shifters heal fast, and neither of us felt the pain the way a human would.

What we felt was the fire, and each other.

"You bit me," he said roughly. "Your teeth went right to the bone."

"You let your uncle put me on a hill and run me like a deer."

"I know."

"Say it was your fault."

"It was my fault."

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry, Hazel."

He said it so plainly that the last of my anger went out of me.

I kissed him.

It was not gentle.

I had been waiting since the dais to do something with my mouth that wasn't talking.

He made a low sound, almost a growl, and his hands came up under the blanket and closed on my ribs.

They were hot and rough, and they shook.

"Let me," I said against his lips, and pushed him back onto the bearskin.

He went.

He lay under me with his chest rising and falling and his red hair spread on the fur, and he watched me.

I tugged the grey slip over my head.

The firelight moved over my skin.

His gaze followed it, slow, down my throat and my breasts and the bruised curve of my hip.

"Look at you," he said, hoarse. "God."

I straddled his hips.

He was already hard, and the feel of him under me, thick and hot against my bare thighs, pulled the breath out of my lungs.

I rolled my hips once.

He hissed through his teeth and his hands dug into my waist.

"Careful," he said. "I told you I'm not safe."

"I don't want safe."

I reached between us and wrapped my fingers around his cock.

It was heavy in my hand, and slick at the tip.

He threw his head back and a sound tore out of him that I felt all the way to the soles of my feet.

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