Page 79 of Specter Bred

His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering.

"And if you need to feel in control again," he breathed, "if you need to remember what power feels like instead of helplessness..."

His voice dropped lower.

"Take control from me."

His words settled heavily between us. My eyes drifted to his mouth as he spoke, to the curve of his smile, his deep left dimple, and the quiet confidence in the way he carried himself.

Sammy had always been there, steady, patient, and willing to give me pieces of himself whenever I needed them. And suddenly, standing this close to him, I wondered how I'd ever overlooked that.

“Use me, Maeve,” he said, his voice dropping low and rough. “After a long day of Graves tearing you apart, when you need to feel like you’re in control again, use me. When you need someone who won’t fight you for it, who’ll let you take exactly what you need. When you need to remember what it feels like to be an alpha…”

He paused, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“When you need to remember what it feels like to be a woman...”

His aroused scent thickened around me, rich enough that my next breath came deeper than the last. I knew that scent now. I’d fallen asleep wrapped in it, sought it out without realizing, and learned to associate it with safety and comfort. But there was nothing innocent about it now. The familiar warmth had taken on a tempting edge that called to my alpha instincts.

Heat rolled from his body as he remained close, his attention lingering on my parted lips, but he didn’t close the distance or try to take the choice from me. He simply waited, leaving the control exactly where he’d promised it would be.

With me.

“Use me," he repeated, softer this time.

Sammy didn’t want to take my power from me. He didn’t want to restrain it, temper it, or force it back under control.

No. He wanted me to unleash it.

He wanted every rough, demanding part of my alpha nature turned on him. He wanted me to take control while he willingly surrendered his own, trusting me with every bit of himself.

And that was what finally shattered the last of my resolve.

I kissed him.

Hard.

My hands landed on his shoulders, and I shoved him backward. A startled laugh escaped him as he stumbled, dropping onto the edge of the bed. When our lips broke apart, he looked up at me, eyes wide and bright with unmistakable affection.

Sammy looked at me like I was something extraordinary.

And standing there in front of him, wrapped only in a towel, I finally felt it.

Powerful.

Wanted.

Seen.

But most importantly, in control.

So I took a few steps backward and let go of the towel. It fell to the floor, pooling around my feet. Boy Scout's eyes widened, his pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the baby blue color. My alpha ears could hear his heartbeat hammering like a rabbit's.

And as Sammy looked at me like I was the only thing in the world worth looking at, I realized something.

For the first time that day, maybe even all week, I wasn’t thinking about Grizzly.

My mind wasn't flooded with his criticism, his approval, or even the impossible standards I kept killing myself to meet. I wasn’t replaying every word he’d said or wondering what I could have done differently.