Mila

Oh God, it was happening, wasn’t it?

He was going to lean in and kiss her, and Mila would have to make a decision. Did she let the gorgeous—if somewhat scruffy—shifter make the first move, or did she pull away and let her wits return to her? It wasn’t nearly as easy a decision as logic dictated it should be.

Mila knew she shouldn’t even be letting him stroke her hair just then, even though it felt soo good. His fingers seemed to know the exact pressure points on her scalp, scraping ever so gently against her. A shiver rushed through her body, exciting nerves and to her surprise, hardening her nipples until she was sure they were showing through her bra and the thin material of her shirt.

Logically, she shouldn’t have even been remotely close to letting him kiss her. She simply didn’t know him well enough. He claimed not to even remember how he got in the forest! Mila believed him, but still, she’d only just met the man and learned his name. Yes, he was gorgeous, and strong, and sexy and ugh, so utterly tempting.

But he was an unknown quantity. All her life she’d believed in and thrived off of her professionalism, her ability to dispassionately analyze a situation and do exactly what was necessary. That’s what had gotten her the job she currently held, and allowed her to provide for such a nice existence, like the house and car, and the generous savings account she had.

Yet all it apparently took was one scruffy rogue to turn all that completely on its head and have her making bad decision after bad decision. Bringing him to her cabin. Not calling the police. Driving him to the city. Inviting him into her home! Just layer after layer of stupid calls, yet she’d never even thought twice about them.

You know why you didn’t.

Yes, but her attraction to him had accelerated everything. Just like it was threatening to accelerate her into his arms, and to accelerate her clothes across the room as he flung them clear of her body.

“Pierce,” she said softly.

To her dismay though, the word came out filled with want and need, not as a cautionary “we need to stop.”

No. No no no. Speak up. Tell him what you want.

But her mouth wasn’t working.

That’s because it’s covered by his, dummy.

Mila’s eyes opened wide as Pierce leaned in, the touch of his lips a fiery blast that threatened to sear her skin. She hesitated, but the warmth of him simply reached out, caught her, and pulled her in. Mila found herself diving head-first into the kiss, even allowing her lips to part as they explored each other hungrily, eager to taste more.

Oh, it felt so good.

She didn’t know if she’d ever been kissed quite so thoroughly before. The emotions it awoke in her thundered through Mila’s system, overwhelming her with a hammering need that promised not to rest until it was satiated. A roaring sound in her ears revealed itself to be her heart trying to burst through her chest as his touch sent it into a frenzy.

The idea that he wanted her, that he wanted her, was most prevalent in her mind. It wormed its way past all of her defenses, presenting itself in the most blatant way possible as his hand cupped the back of her head. Mila heard herself whimper, hating herself for it yet knowing she wanted it just as badly as she knew she shouldn’t have it.

Laying her trembling hand on his face, Mila contemplated giving in. Just letting whatever was going to happen, happen, and damn the consequences. She was a grown-ass adult, she could deal with it. Couldn’t she?

But then, a burst of cool, icy logic managed to reassert itself as she pulled back, dropping her one hand.

No.

“No,” she said softly, jerking away from him suddenly.

Unbidden her hand came up to her lips. She touched them gently and then looked at her fingers as if expecting to see something, but they were bare.

“Pierce, I…” she faltered, just shaking her head.

Many of her instincts were screaming at her, telling her to just reach out with that hand and grab his shirt, to pull him in to her. To let him lay her down onto the floor and mount her. He would treat her right, they promised. She wouldn’t regret it.

That’s what Mila was afraid of though: that she wouldn’t regret it if she let their clothes come off, if she let him inside of her. That she would just want more and more. He felt like an addiction just waiting to take root within her, and she didn’t know how to feel about that. Half of her was ecstatic. Half of her knew it just felt right. And the other half of her was terrified of what it all meant.

“I understand,” he said, visibly restraining himself as he pulled back. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shook her head, standing up. “No, it’s not your fault. I, ah, I let it happen too. Don’t blame yourself. But I should go.”

Taking several steps toward the stairs she paused and turned. “We’ll talk this over in the morning, figure it out. Okay?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t say anything.

If he told her to come back, Mila wasn’t sure she would be able to resist. Her body wanted it so badly. More than she’d ever wanted something before. It wasn’t just what was under his clothes that was working her over either. Yes, she was aroused and wanted him. But there was something about Pierce himself that told Mila she wouldn’t be feeling this way if it were any other man.

“Mila,” he called, the single word stopping her in her tracks harder than if she’d run face-first into a wall.

Please don’t ask me to come back. I can’t do it, but I can’t say no. You know I can’t. So don’t, please, Pierce…

“Yes?” she asked, her left hand on the railing next to the stairs, gripping it tight, as if perhaps that could stop her from turning around and throwing herself across the room if he told her to.

Anger simmered beneath the surface within Mila at her sudden inability to deny Pierce. This weakness was not something she’d ever felt before. No man had ever had such control. She’d been aroused and turned on before, had wanted someone before. She wasn’t that naïve to the world at large.

But this...

This was something different. Something stronger and more innate. It called to her at her most basic level, like a primitive mating call between animals that once made, couldn’t be ignored. She wanted to know how he’d done it, how he’d managed to establish such control over her, without seeming to actually do anything. Yet she knew if she turned around and he so much as crooked a finger at her, Mila would be across the distance, her clothes flying off before she knew it.

Her hand was shaking now, rattling the banister ever so slightly as she held on for dear life. The skin around her knuckles was going white as she squeezed.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last.

Mila almost fainted from relief when it became clear he wasn’t going to push things. She didn’t know if he could read her, if he could see how close she was to just giving in, but if he could, she appreciated him all the more for not making her do something she didn’t think she was ready for.

Well, part of her was certainly ready for it, but not the rest of her. Not the part that made her an “intelligent” species.

“It’s okay,” she said, still not looking back. “I had a part in it too. It’s just…I can’t. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Pierce replied glumly. He wasn’t happy about it, she could tell, but he seemed to be willing to respect her enough not to push the issue.

“Good night, Pierce.”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, changing topics.

This time Mila did look back, meeting his baby blue eyes, half hidden as his bushy eyebrows came down on top them as he asked the question.

She thought frantically to come up with an answer.

“I called in sick,” she said, and then before anything else could be said, practically fled up the stairs.

The instant the door to the basement closed behind her, she realized two things.

One, that she immediately felt a lessening of the pressure, which was almost immediately accompanied by a wave of relief that threatened to send her to her knees. Mila had been fighting the calls of her body to go to him, using so much energy in doing so that when they suddenly faded, she was overwhelmed by their absence.

As she spent a moment bent over, hands on her knees taking deep lungfuls of air to try and return herself to some semblance of normal, a second thought came to her.

I left him down there with nothing to sleep with.

No bed. No blankets, no pillows. None of it.

Her head slowly turned to look back at the door. She should go back. As a good host, it was necessary of her. She couldn’t just leave her guest to sleep on the carpet.

Out of nowhere Ellie appeared, weaving her way through Mila’s legs and then sauntering over to the basement door.

“What, you want to do down there?” she asked.

Meow.

“Fine,” she said with a laugh. “Go let Pierce use you as a pillow, will ya?”

Ellie just looked at her expectantly.

Shaking her head, Mila walked back, opened the door a crack for Ellie, and left it that way. Then she continued on up to her bedroom.

Her clothes came off in a hurry and she slid into bed, the satin sheets caressing her body lightly as they draped themselves over her form. A mild tingle spread through her torso as the material rubbed itself against nipples that were still hard and aroused from earlier, bringing sensations to Mila that she wished she could just ignore.

The idea of a cold shower crept through her, even as she felt her hand sliding across her stomach, and then down between her legs. Mila knew fighting this would be useless. She’d managed to take charge of her body and deny it the sex it apparently needed more than she realized, but that was about as far as she was willing to push it.

She needed relief now, and this was the only way she was going to get it. Mila didn’t touch herself often. Not because she thought it was wrong or didn’t know how, but simply because so often she came home from work exhausted, and wanted to sleep more than anything else.

That wasn’t going to happen tonight though. Pierce had, with his touch, brought the furnace within her not only to life, but stoked it into a roaring blaze. The moment her fingers slid over her soft mound, Mila had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at the sensation.

How the hell did you do this to me, she wondered. All Pierce had done was kiss her, and yet somehow she was ready to burst from the slightest touch already. It was simply…

Inhuman.

But Pierce isn’t human, is he? He’s a shifter. Can he seriously do something like that? Turn me on in a way that I’ve only ever read about?

The answer was right in front of her, and it was a resounding yes from all the signs she could read.

Mila bit her lip as she began to move her middle finger in slow circles, easily sliding over her skin with wetness that Pierce had brought forth from her.

Her eyes closed as she imagined what might have happened if she’d allowed things to continue. In her mind’s eye she pictured lifting his shirt off, getting her first look at the muscles that lay beneath it. But she barely paused to kiss his washboard abs, even as her mouth headed lower, her fingers preceding it, working frantically to remove the belt and button without taking too long.

She wanted him, to strip him down and see what he looked like naked.

Without warning Ellie jumped up on the bed and let out a loud meow right next to her ear.

“Holy shit!” Mila practically screamed, bolting upright in bed, her heart thudding almost painfully from the surprise.

But the white and black cat just sat down and began to purr, looking up at her innocently.

“Well, that’s ruined for the night,” Mila said, throwing herself back into the pillow with a sigh.

She lay there, remembering the touch of Pierce as his fingers had slid over the exposed skin on the back of her neck. That was the one thing that she just couldn’t quite figure out. Mila knew she was making the right choice by stopping things with him.

So why did it feel so wrong?