Keeping Mary Jane safe was Wulf’s primary goal and not for the sole reason that she was bearing his child. But because things were different now. The long ride and their arrival at the motel had been marked with Mary Jane pulling away from him. The woman he was madly in love with had lost all hope in him.

Wulf lay in the bed nearest to the door. Glancing at the popcorn ceiling, he ruminated over the conversation they had about ten minutes ago as the sound of the shower droned on.

“Once we confirm if I’m pregnant or not,” she’d said. Her tone had fluctuated with emotion.

“If she’s not pregnant, there’s no us,” he spoke the words into existence. The shit didn’t sound right exiting his mouth, albeit instincts told him she’d been inferring to them parting ways.

“Wulf,” she called out.

He was at the bathroom door in a flash. He’d seen and still went crazy with arousal over her body, but he averted his gaze to the glass door. He gave a nonchalant, “Yeah?”

“Can you wash my back?” Mary Jane whispered, her voice fought with the sound of the water.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Please,” she replied. No matter how tomorrow played out, with her being pregnant or not, she was out-of-this-world attracted to him.

Wulf slid the door to the side and grabbed her lathered towel. There was no nurture, no tenderness in the movements, not as he’d done in the past. She wanted to leave. A part of him was just as jealous and mad as Beasley had been, wanting to keep and claim her. His heart desired the best for her. And before the past few days, Wulf assumed it was him. Her head dipped as he deftly worked over her back muscles and neck.

“MJ,” he said, his voice reclaiming that uniformity she’d been used to when meeting him as an officer in New Mexico. “My arm is getting wet.”

“So, I’m all wet.” She gave a half-smile.

Their eyes connected. And Wulf became as greedy as he’d been the first night they’d screwed. He undid the clasp of his button up and slipped it over his head, then his pants.

She moved over in the shower. The confines of the area had shrunk tremendously and his cock was at attention, further taking up the space between them. He clasped a hand behind her neck and his mouth claimed hers. Those curvy, creamy golden thighs of hers slid around his waist.

“Oh, fuck,” she sighed against his ear as his manhood fit her like a glove. Her mouth was titillating, soft against his as he began to pump in and out of her. Mary Jane’s hands wrapped around his neck. His legs planted wide. and he hit home with each thrust, sending her screaming his name.

Then he sank deep into her core, harder than he’d ever been.

“I won’t let you go, Mary Jane,” he growled in her ear. They both understood. Baby or not, she’d unlocked this animalistic hunger in him.

“Wulf, please…” Her voice was hardly audible. “Please just fuck me, just fuck me.”

His eyes met hers. Gaze hard and unyielding. No other words were necessary. His biceps bulged as he continued to thrust inside of her. With each force, Wulf recalled the shit he’d do for her. Every muscle, tendon. and bone in her body mellowed in serenity as he worked his cock inside of her. They were unconventional and more than dysfunctional, but out of all the chaos, this single moment was a driving force.

An eruption so strong took hold, his toes clutched under, and Mary Jane burrowed into the crook of his neck. She eternally belonged to him.