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The tenderness was unexpected, making something in my chest tighten alongside the desire coursing through me. I reached up to touch his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw with trembling fingers.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I trust you.”

Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, then a fierce joy that stole my breath. He positioned himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. The initial push was intense, a burning stretch that had me gasping.

“Breathe,” he instructed, his voice tight with restraint. “Relax for me, Evan.”

Hearing my name on his lips, spoken with such intimate command, sent a shiver through me. I forced myself to relax, to breathe through the initial discomfort. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed forward until he was fully seated within me, our bodies as close as they could possibly be.

For a long moment, he held still, giving me time to adjust. His arms trembled slightly with the effort of restraint, the muscles in his shoulders and back rigid with tension. I ran my hands along those muscles, marveling at their power, at the control he was exerting.

“Move,” I finally whispered, lifting my hips experimentally. “Please, Shep.”

He needed no further encouragement. With a growl that was more animal than human, he withdrew almost completely before driving back in with a precision that sent sparks of pleasure exploding through me. I cried out, my back arching off the cot.

“There it is,” he murmured, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Let me hear you, Inspector. No holding back.”

He established a rhythm that was neither gentle nor rough but perfectly calibrated to my responses, adjusting his angle with each thrust until he found the spot that made me see stars. The cot creaked alarmingly beneath us, the metal frame protesting the force of our movements, but neither of us cared.

Outside, the storm continued to rage, lightning illuminating the cabin in brief, staccato flashes that caught his features in stark relief. In those moments, I could see something wild in his expression, something beyond human that should have frightened me but only excited me further.

His pace increased, each thrust more powerful than the last. I clung to his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. The pleasure was building to an almost unbearable intensity, a pressure low in my spine that threatened to consume me entirely.

“Shep,” I gasped, feeling the edge approaching. “I’m close, I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he growled, one hand gripping my hip with bruising force. “Wait for me.”

I whimpered, struggling to hold back. “I can’t, I can’t—”

His other hand wrapped around my throat, not squeezing but simply holding, the pressure light but commanding. “You can,” he insisted, his voice dropping to that inhuman rumble. “And you will. Because you’re mine now.”

The possessive declaration should have offended me, should have triggered all my independence alarms. Instead, it sent a thrill through me so intense I nearly came despite his command.

“Yours,” I agreed, the word slipping out without conscious thought.

Something flashed in his eyes—triumph, satisfaction, and that unnameable something that made my heart race. He leaned down, his mouth at my ear, his voice a rough whisper.

“Now, Evan. Come for me now.”

The permission unleashed the flood I’d been desperately holding back. Pleasure crashed through me in waves, each one more intense than the last, my body clenching around him as I cried out his name. Through the haze of my own release, I felt him stiffen above me, his rhythm faltering as he followed me over the edge with a growl that vibrated through both our bodies.

For several long moments, the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the continuing storm outside. He remained inside me, his weight supported on trembling arms as he looked down at my face with an expression I couldn’t fully decipher.

“You okay?” he finally asked, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it.

I nodded, not quite trusting my voice yet. He smiled, then carefully withdrew, both of us wincing slightly at the sensation. The loss of his heat was immediate and unwelcome.

Before I could feel awkward about our situation—naked, sticky, trapped in a fire lookout tower during a thunderstorm—he reached over the side of the cot and came up with the blanket we’d abandoned earlier. He cleaned us both with surprising tenderness, then pulled me against him, arranging our bodies so we both fit on the narrow cot.

“The radio,” I murmured, suddenly remembering his responsibilities. “Shouldn’t you check in?”

He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Generator’s out. Radio won’t work until the power’s back.” His arms tightened around me. “Nothing to do but wait out the storm.”

I should have been worried. I should have been planning contingencies, considering safety protocols for power outages and severe weather. Instead, I found myself relaxing into his embrace, my body heavy with satisfaction.

“So,” I said after a comfortable silence. “A werewolf.”

His chest rumbled with quiet laughter beneath my ear. “You’re really stuck on that part, aren’t you?”