Chapter 102

Agnes & Elijah

Agnes

Gertrude’s grin was nothing short of impish as she shoved me and Elijah together. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I had ever seen the often meek librarian’s eyes flare with such mischief behind those glasses.

My heart pounded as I glanced up at Elijah, his warm body pressed against mine. He was staring at me. Oh, Goddess, he was staring at me.

“I guess that means we’re supposed to dance,” he murmured, dipping his head so he could speak into my ear. His breath was far too warm and far too sultry against my skin.

I flushed. Deeply. “I guess so,” I replied, looking over to glare at Gertrude. But she was gone.

Elijah’s hands settled on my hips as we began to tentatively move to the music. The beat was slow and sultry, the kind that made your body sway almost instinctively. I could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of my skirt, the press of his abdomen flush against my chest.

We were close. Too close. But not a single shred of me could move away. I wanted this, wanted him, and despite everything… I knew he wanted me, too. Even if we couldn’t have each other.

As the music pulsed around us, I couldn’t help but let myself go. My movements became more fluid, more sensual, my body pressing against his in a way that made my heart race. I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken attraction that had been building for weeks, and it was intoxicating.

I kept thinking about our conversation earlier, about the way he’d looked at me when he said he might go feral if he saw me with another man. The memory sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself leaning into him in response, my lips instinctively brushing against his neck as we danced.

His breath hitched, his hands tightening on my hips, and I felt a thrill of satisfaction at his reaction. I’d always known there was something between us, something undeniable, but feeling it like this—raw and unfiltered—was something else entirely.

We moved together as if we were the only two people in the room, the lights flashing around us in a kaleidoscope of colors. His body was warm and solid against mine, his scent enveloping me so that everything else fell away.

And most of all, I could feel his arousal, the way his body reacted to mine, the gentle press of something warm and hardening against my leg, and it only fueled my boldness.

My lips found his neck again, this time lingering as I kissed him softly, my teeth grazing his skin.

Elijah groaned, his hands sliding up my back to pull me closer. “Agnes.”

His voice was low and rough, but the way he said my name wasn’t a warning. It was an invitation. Or perhaps a plea.

I looked up at him through my lashes, our eyes locking, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, our lips met in a kiss that sent fireworks exploding through my veins.

It was everything I’d imagined and more—hot, desperate, sloppy, and filled with a longing that had been building for far too long. His hands tangled in my hair, his mouth moving against mine with a hunger that matched my own, and suddenly the rest of the universe faded to black.

…

Elijah

My wolf reacted instantly to Agnes’s touch, a surge of heat and desire that I’d never felt before coursing through me as her lips brushed against my neck.

It was as if a switch had suddenly been flipped, and in those moments, all I could think about was her—her body pressed against mine, her scent filling my senses, her lips on my skin.

No consequences. No Olivia. Nothing holding us back.

Just us, and the feeling of her slender body moving against mine like a serpent, her tongue slipping hungrily into my mouth, lapping at my teeth like she’d been poisoned and my mouth held the antidote.

I tried to keep my distance when we first began dancing, to maintain some semblance of control, but it was impossible. The way she moved, the way she kissed me—it was too much.

And it wasn’t just me who lost control, either.

My wolf was howling inside of me, urging me to claim her, to make her mine in every way possible.

I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. If I could have had my way, I would have unmarked Olivia right then and there for Agnes. I would have done it a long time ago.

But I couldn’t. Not here, not like this.

Still, as we danced, my hands roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine. Her breasts rose and fell against my abdomen, her skin growing flushed and hot. I could scent her arousal through the slim space between us, could feel the goosebumps that rose in trails wherever my fingers brushed.

By the time the dance ended, I felt like I might explode from the frustration of it all. Arousal, regret, longing, yearning.

Agnes’s cheeks were flushed, too, her lips swollen from our kisses, and her long eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at me. She was breathtaking, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

The party began to wind down, and we stumbled outside, our shoulders brushing as we waited for the cab. I told myself it was the alcohol, the heat of the moment, but deep down, I knew it was more than that.

So much more.

And although my wolf’s constant war between the mate bond with Olivia and the undeniable attraction to Agnes was nothing short of frustrating, I didn’t blame him then. I understood how those unseen forces seemed to be constantly tugging me toward Agnes, and how utterly heartbreaking it was that there was this big, looming wall blocking us from truly being together.

But that night, it felt as if, somehow, that wall seemed to have formed a crack. I wasn’t sure how or when or why—perhaps it had been cracking for months now, from the moment I’d met Agnes—but it had.

And now, there was an opening just big enough for two souls to slip through. Even if only for a night.

When the cab arrived, we climbed in, our bodies pressed together in the backseat. The proximity between us was almost too much to bear, our hot, breathless bodies panting alongside one another. I slurred our address to the cab driver, and he pulled away from the curb.

There were a few moments of silence, filled only by the hum of the engine and our hot exhales as we caught our breath. But then Agnes looked at me, her eyes dark with desire, and I knew I was lost.

Before I could say anything, she was crawling onto my lap, her lips crashing against mine in a hot, heady kiss. The driver protested, but I barely heard him.

All I could focus on was Agnes—her warmth, her taste, the way she felt in my arms. Far more intimate, far more right, than I’d ever felt with Olivia. While the mate bond was something primal and intoxicating like a shot of whiskey, this felt like storm clouds clearing to reveal a bright, sunny morning.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I needed her.

I needed her tonight, or I might explode.