He ran his fingers through his hair. His bear was losing it. Four weeks was a lot to ask him. But he was trained in self-control. He was trained in patience. He was trained to wait for his target. His bear had to fucking wait. This was not the time to take a mate.

One month with Whitney had almost made him forget his mission in Razastan wasn’t over. He still had to go back.

The bathroom was the last project. He had tried to find more things to do at the house, but he had tackled everything on the list Whitney had given him.

He paced in the apartment. There was no way he could sleep. He jogged down the steps to the workshop below. He was finished with his project, but it could use another sanding. He wanted it to be perfect.

He flipped on the light over the workbench, reaching for sandpaper.

He peeled back the sheet and started working, smoothing out the grooves and rough spots.

Kyle looked at his phone. It was after midnight. His hair was full of sawdust. It was caked under his nails, and stuck to the stubble on his chin. Whitney would be asleep by now. He walked to the house and slipped into the bathroom. He washed the sawdust down the drain before heading back to the barn.

He looked over his finished project. He smiled and turned to cut off the light when he heard something behind him.

His neck stiffened and his chest tightened.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft and light.

He turned. Whitney was standing in the barn door. Her hair was down on her shoulders. She was wearing a T-shirt barely covering her ass. He swallowed hard.

“You ok?” He was afraid to take his hand off the workbench. It was the one thing keeping him from dragging her up to his bed.

She shook her head. “Not really.” She walked in the barn, closing the door behind her.

“What happened?” He had just been in the house and everything seemed fine.

She leaned against the wall. That’s when his hand let go of the one thing anchoring him in place. He walked toward her, faster than he meant to.

He stopped close enough he could smell the wine on her breath, the shampoo on her hair, the rain on her skin. The T-shirt clung to her chest where the rain had pelted her. He could see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric.

His breath hitched. “What’s wrong, Whit?”

He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching for her neck. Her skin was warm in his palm.

She raised her eyes to him, holding his gaze in place. Her teeth raked over her lip.

“I heard you in the shower. I walked downstairs but you were gone.”

“Did you need to tell me something?” he asked. Her breasts were bobbing in front of him as her breathing quickened.

“Mmmhmm.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice was husky and deep.

“You,” she whispered.

“Me?” His fingers began to massage the back of her neck. He couldn’t stop the pull he had toward her.

“I had to finish an entire bottle of wine to walk over here.”

“Why?” His other hand landed on the soft curves of her waist. God, she was so luscious and sweet.

“Because I want to know why you haven’t made a single move.” She leaned closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest.

Fuck. “Made a move?” He leaned down, inhaling her sweet breath. His lips dying to kiss her. To touch the curves of her mouth.

She nodded, her eyes widening. “You’ve been here a month. What’s wrong? Do you think of me as Sam’s little sister? Is that it?”

“Hell, no. Is that what you think?”

She nodded, her lips full and pouty. “Yes.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?” she whispered.

His lungs seized with air. He wanted her. He needed her to help him take his next breath. She was gorgeous and sexy. She was soft and warm. Innocent and kind. All the things his mate should be.

He pressed his forehead to hers, knowing his bear was pushing him to take more than this moment. His bear wanted every part of her.

“I can’t explain it, Whit,” he groaned. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Her hands slipped up to his neck. “Protect me from what?” Her fingers rubbed along his skin.

“From getting hurt.”

“I’m hurting right now. Every day you don’t kiss me hurts.” She breathed. “I came over here to tell you I want you to make a move.”

His bear was beyond restraint. There was nothing Kyle could do to calm him, or convince him to keep things in check. She was offering herself to him, and as far as his bear was concerned, he should take what was his.

Kyle’s mouth landed on hers, hot and rough. He cradled her face in his hands, drawing her close to him. He could taste the wine as his tongue twined against hers. He drew a moan from her throat as he sucked and bit at her lips.

His hands slid to her hips, snaking the T-shirt over her generous ass. She raised her hands in the air, and in a swift tug he yanked it over her arms and threw it near the pile of sawdust.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” He stared at her breasts, ripe and round. Pink and soft. Puckering for him. Begging to be sucked.

He gripped one before his teeth landed on the nipple. He tugged and toyed, while his tongue flicked against her skin.

“Ohh,” Whitney cried, fisting her hands at the back of his head.

The nipple perked under the heat of his mouth. He blew across it. He kissed between her breasts, then moved to the other side, sucking hard until he heard the moans from the back of her throat. His teeth raked against her skin as he sank to his knees, kissing and licking against her flesh.

He wanted to cover every inch of her. Taste her. Suck her, and fuck her until she was screaming his name. He couldn’t stop his bear even if he wanted to. Four weeks was too long to wait.

His eyes flashed up to hers. Her gorgeous brown eyes misted with lust and want. It was all he needed to see. And in an instant he peeled the panties from her hips, dropping them to her ankles. She stood before him, flat against the wall. Her head reeled back. Her legs spread wide.

He didn’t ask. He knew exactly what he wanted. What he wanted to taste. His hands moved between her legs, spreading her slick folds wide for him. His tongue slid between her, slow at first.

“Ohh,” she whimpered.

He grinned. God, she tasted sweet. He dipped his tongue against her again, his hands prying her thighs. He began lapping at the bud, relentless with thirst for her. With each moan and rock of her hips he felt his cock grow more solid.

“Whitney,” he breathed between her thighs.

She whimpered. “You do want me.” Her head rolled to the side.

“Let me show you. I want you more than you know.” He eased one of her legs over his shoulder so her hips tilted toward him.

His tongue plunged against her entrance. He worked in and out, wickedly flicking over her throbbing nub before dipping into her sweet spot.

He felt her began to quiver around him. He pressed his palm to her stomach, pinning her to the wall while his tongue continued to lick and tease her.

“Ohh,” she moaned. “It’s so much. I can’t…I can’t…” Her words said one thing, while her hands pressed him deeper between her legs. She rocked rhythmically against his tonge.

“Feel it. Feel what I can do to you.” He sucked hard against her, and the vibrations quickened. His tongue dipped deep, loving the feel of her clenching against him. Her hands flattened against the barn wall, and her hips thrust forward into his face.

He growled low, letting it rumble between her legs while he lapped against the sweet sugar she gave him. If she could come like that with his tongue, he could only imagine what she would do with him buried deep inside her. He growled again, knowing he was going to find out.

Her quivering quieted as she began to open her eyes. He kissed along her stomach, inching his way to standing.

He looked at her beautiful face.

“I want you even more than that,” he whispered.

“More?” she asked. “There’s more?”

Her fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his chest.

His mouth crushed against her. Her lips parted as he kissed her hard. He felt her nipples pebble against his chest as the friction between them heated.

He jerked her leg to his hip, wrapping it around his waist. His cock was hard, straining against his jeans. Her eyes flashed at him. He looked around them. Sawdust. Nails. The barn wall. He might be a bear, but he could do better than this.

“You want this?” He kissed the base of her throat, sliding his hand between her legs. She was so wet and ready.

She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and marched up the stairs. His bear was finally getting what he wanted.