And in one split second—faster than any human could blink—he was in her face.
His mouth brushed her ear.
"I can pleasure you in ways that will make you quivering and begging me to fuck you in every hole."
Sera sucked in a breath—sharp, involuntary, betraying more than she wanted. Her body reacted, responding to the dominance in his tone, the unrestrained honesty of a man who meant what he said.
And that terrified her far more than the nightmare she'd just woken from.
She shoved him lightly—not enough to move him, but enough to break the gravitational pull he'd pulled her into.
"Get back," she whispered. "Or I'll scream."
Sera made to step back but Eric grabbed her to him. He could still feel the fever radiating off her skin, burning through her thin nightshirt.
He lowered his head toward her throat, inhaling sharply.
The fever.
The fear.
The scent that made absolutely no sense and yet wrapped around his senses.
"I would make you come back again and again and again for more, Sugar, no matter how much I ruin you."
"Let go of me."
Eric gave a wolfish smile—sharp, devastating and before she could blink, he swooped her into his arms. She let out a shocked gasp as he lifted her effortlessly, bridal-style, her feverish skin pressed to his bare chest.
Her heart thudded against him.
He carried her straight into the bathroom.
The shower stall was large enough for four people, encased in glass.
He placed her down inside the shower and switched it on.
A gush of cold water blasted above them, instantly soaking them both.
Sera gasped, shivering hard—yet her body pressed into him for warmth in the same heartbeat, betraying her resolve. Eric instinctively wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him, shielding her body with his own.
The water cascaded down his bare shoulders, plastering her hair to her face, droplets sliding between them. Sera trembled violently, and Eric—despite every ounce of self-control he thought he had—held her closer, incredibly close.
Her hands, without her permission, slid up his abdomen, then to his chest—hot, shaky, seeking the one warm thing in the icy downpour. His heart stuttered under her palms.
"Why can't I get my hands off you?" Eric whispered.
He leaned in closer, burying his nose in her hair. Her scent was… wrong. Different. Unfamiliar yet magnetic.
"There is something not right about you, Sera," he murmured. "You do feel the same way, even when you fight me."
Sera closed her eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly, as if she couldn't breathe around the heat of his body trapping her against the tiled wall. The cold water hit her back, the warmth of him hit her front, and somewhere in between she found herself drowning in contradictions.
"I don't…" she whispered.
"You do," he countered, softer, dangerously soft.
"Don't be so arrogant." Sera shot back, chin tilted in defiance.
"I'm not. You…"
He moved so fast she barely saw it. One second she stood with her back to the tiled wall, and the next, he'd pinned her there—his palm flat beside her head, his body caging hers.
"Did my mother teach you what to do to undo me?" he asked.
Sera's pulse skittered wildly. "I never met your mother before today."
"I want to believe you, Sera…" He leaned in, nose brushing her temple. "…but there is too much at stake."
His self-control was cracking.
His thoughts churned darkly. If he wanted to take her tonight… And goddess help them, she might let him.
But then the real problem slammed into him—his mother.
Of course she had thought ahead.
Thanks to her scheming, every condom in the entire Blackwood estate had been confiscated.
"Undress," he ordered.
"What?"
"I'll give you some privacy," he said calmly, as if he hadn't just pinned her against a wall and growled instructions at her. "Don't worry. I'll be waiting in your room."
He stepped away, grabbed a towel off the rack, and left the bathroom.
Once the door closed, he pressed his forehead against the wall.
This wasn't good.
This wasn't good at all.
Control kept him sane.
Control kept people alive.
He breathed deeply, forcing air into his lungs, fighting the invisible noose tightening around his ribs.
Minutes ticked by.
The storm whispered across the rooftops.
Finally, the bathroom door clicked open.
Sera stepped out, wrapped tightly in a towel, goosebumps covering her skin. She was shivering, her lips slightly parted as she looked at him.
Eric's eyes raked over her instinctively.
Her damp hair.
Her flushed cheeks.
The droplets sliding down her collarbone.
He swallowed hard.
"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "One minute you're hot, the next you're cold."
"Why do you care?" she asked, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"I don't. But like I said," he added, "your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you on my watch."
Sera said nothing, only moved to the pile of folded clothes Benedict had left neatly on the sofa. Her fingers trembled as she chose a nightdress, modest in design.
Eric watched her slide it over her towel-first, cautious, shy, as if she expected him to turn around or politely avert his eyes.
He didn't.
And the way it made her stiffen, cheeks flushing, only made him chuckle inside.
Women had undressed for him without being asked—without him wanting them to. Wolves. Humans.
But Sera?
She hid.
"Find something thicker to wear," he instructed.
She tugged the nightdress down awkwardly. "There is nothing else here. Just dresses."
He swore under his breath. "Fuck!"
He dragged a hand through his wet hair, frustrated with her, with the situation, with himself.
"Get into bed," he ordered.
She narrowed her eyes. "Do people just obey you when you speak?"
"Naturally. Except you apparently."
Sera shrugged, folding her arms. "I have no reason to do what you say."
"For one…" His eyes dipped, lingered, then rose back to hers. "…I am supposed to be an Alpha. You do know what an Alpha is, don't you?" he finished, head tilting in challenge.