-Adrian-
She tempted me by asking to remove her blindfold. I almost let her. And all night, I've restrained myself from pulling it off her.
I made a deal with her. It's a promise. I would destroy everything for her if I did.
"Let's go have a drink," I say, my voice dark with restraint as I pull the robe off the towel heater and wrap it around her before securing one around my own body.
The silk of her blindfold looks like it's not as tight as before. After a quick internal debate, I do the right thing, though every instinct in me rebels against it.
"Turn around," I instruct, my voice rougher than intended, laced with the frustration of denying myself what I truly want.
She doesn't ask why and spins obediently, trusting me completely. The realization sends a possessive jolt through my chest.
"Keep your eyes shut," I tell her, untying the silk. "I should tighten this."
She reaches behind her and grips my thighs, her touch sending electricity through me. "Have you done this before?" she asks, her voice small.
"Slept with a stranger?" I clarify, my fingers working on the blindfold while fighting the urge to rip it away entirely.
"Yeah..." she says quietly, vulnerability lacing her tone.
"Yes," I admit honestly. No point in bullshitting her.
She stays quiet but holds her breath and bites her lip. I can sense her disappointment, though she tries to hide it.
The need to make her understand she is special digs into my soul. This may be a once-in-a-lifetime moment for both of us, but it doesn't reduce her magnificence or the memories of her that will be etched in my brain forever.
I reposition the silk over her eyes, tie it securely, then lean into her ear. "I've never done anything like this with any other woman before," I confess, my lips brushing against her skin. "And I'm not a liar, so I won't be one to you. I don't remember all the one-night stands I've had, but you, my little wolf, I will never forget."
"What makes this different than other one-night stands?" she asks nervously, her pulse quickening under my touch.
I kiss her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent. "I've never gone into one with no names and no faces but dying to know their name and see their eyes," I murmur against her skin. "Their faces disappeared when I walked away... but you, my little wolf, haven't given me your face, yet I'll never forget it."
She releases her breath, a small shudder running through her body.
"Come," I say, taking her hand. "Have a drink with me."
I lead her out to the bar and motion for the butler to make our drinks and stay quiet. He has a room inside the bar area of the suite. As soon as he makes them, I nod for him to go back into his room. I hand my little wolf a martini, take my scotch, and lead her to the sitting area.
When we get to the room, I set our drinks on the table. I choose the chaise lounge and pull her onto my lap, possessively keeping her close. I hold the glass to her lips, and she takes a sip, her throat working as she swallows.
"How do you know what I drink?" she asks, surprise evident in her voice.
"I watched you all night," I admit, not bothering to hide my fascination with her. "I noticed everything about you."
Her lips twitch upward. "Should I be scared of your obsession?" she teases, but there's a genuine question beneath her playful tone.
"If we lived in the same pack, yes," I say darkly. "I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. I'd be forced to find you. Hunt you down until you were mine."
Her smile grows, and something primal in my chest tightens at the sight.
I take a drink of my scotch. It slides down my throat in a slow burn. I stare at her juicy lips, wanting desperately to kiss her but refraining.
You'll never get her out of your head if you kiss her, Nox warns in my mind.
I fucking know that, I snap, irritated by the truth of his words.
She is stunning perfection in her blindfold. Everything she feels, I see in her expression. There is no way for her to hide. But I wish I could see her eyes. I only stared directly into them briefly at the lobby bar. In the hotel club, I watched her, intentionally staying back. And she never faced me directly.
The black silk matches her hair. Her flawless skin is smoother than I imagined. I trace my finger just below the silk, and she inhales slowly, her lips parting slightly.
She wants us to remove it... I say just do it, Nox urges.
No! I argue. I promised to stick to the rules.
Fuck the rules. I want to see our little wolf!
I push Nox to the back of my mind. I know she wants the blindfold removed. Every time she thinks it, I see it in the subtle shifts of her expression, the way her fingers twitch as if fighting the urge to pull it off herself. But she's only asked once, respecting our agreement even though I can sense her curiosity burning.
She reaches toward me and puts her hand on my cheek, her touch gentle yet scorching.
I close my eyes for a moment, inhaling her scent. Honey, vanilla, and that third scent I still can't quite identify. It's driving me crazy, awakening something primal within me.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks softly, her thumb tracing my jawline.
"Your scent," I admit, my voice rough. "It's... intoxicating."
She tilts her head, curiosity evident despite the blindfold. "What do I smell like to you?"
"Honey and vanilla," I say, leaning closer to breathe her in again. "And something else I can't quite place. It's maddening. Like trying to remember a song that's on the tip of your tongue."
A small smile plays on her lips. "Maybe that's for the best. Keep some mystery between us."
"There's already too much mystery," I growl, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "I want to know everything about you."
"That wasn't part of our deal," she reminds me gently.
"I know," I sigh, pulling her closer against my chest, possessively wrapping my arm around her waist. "But I'm starting to regret the terms."
She stiffens slightly. "We agreed—"
"I know what we agreed," I interrupt, my voice low and dangerous. "And I'll honor it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
She relaxes against me, her head resting on my shoulder. "It's better this way," she whispers, but I hear the uncertainty in her voice.
"Is it?" I challenge darkly. "Because it's starting to feel like torture."
She doesn't answer, just takes another sip of her drink. The silence stretches between us, filled with all the things we can't say, all the possibilities we've agreed to deny ourselves.
"Tell me something real," I demand finally. "Something I can remember you by. Something that's just for me."
She considers this for a moment. "I've never felt this way with anyone before," she admits, her voice barely audible. "Like I've known you in another life."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Because I feel it too—this impossible connection, this sense that we were meant to find each other, even if only for one night.
"Maybe we did," I suggest, running my fingers through her silky hair, my touch possessive. "Maybe this isn't the first time our souls have met."
She laughs softly. "I didn't take you for the romantic type."
"I'm not," I admit, my voice hardening. "Trust me, I'm usually about as romantic as a brick wall. But you make me question everything I thought I knew about myself."
And it's true. One night with this woman has shaken foundations I thought were immovable. It terrifies me how easily she's slipped past my defenses, how desperately I want to break our rules and claim her completely.