Chapter 8 - Jack

The pent-up stress from this day almost exploded when I had to throw down with that asshole Peter. His slimy grin and nasty words continue to ring in my ears as I sit in the tent with Lena. I want to hunt him down and smash his face in.

I can't believe anyone would do this to any woman, but a father doing this to his daughter is reprehensible beyond belief.

Especially since she is a virgin.

It's easy to see that Lena is still completely untouched. She's shivering, and tears are running down her cheeks. I know she's trying to hide it from me, and it just makes me admire her strength even more.

"Lena," I say softly, trying to be reassuring. "It's alright."

I lean over and grab one of the blankets. I want to wrap it around her and hold her, but I'm worried she might take it as a come-on. I want to show her I respect her space, so I offer it to her instead.

"Would you like a blanket?" I ask.

She nods and takes it, wrapping it around her shoulders. I don't mention the shivering or the tears. The more time I spend around this family, the more I can see how much she has been abused.

It's a miracle she has kept her kind heart through all of this.

I sit quietly for a moment, letting her compose herself. I want her so badly that my body is strung as tight as a hot wire, and I'm almost trembling myself.

Her scent is so strong in here… dear God, she smells like fresh cotton candy, still warm from being spun. I just want to open my mouth and—

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I can't show her how excited I am—she might take it as a threat, and I want her to feel safe.

It's obvious from her reaction that she's never been physically close with anyone. Maybe not even casual intimacy, like family hugs.

Peter really looks like the hugging type , I think sarcastically.

The idea that Lena has never experienced a positive physical interaction stirs a deep and terrible sadness in me. Touch is a basic human requirement—just as important as food, water, and rest.

No wonder she won't give me her heart. It's been so beaten and bruised already by almost everyone she's ever known. Including me.

Her words have hit me like sharp blows, but I can't blame her for them. I deserve it, and so much worse.

"Are you alright?" I ask her. "Can I get you anything?"

She laughs, sniffing at the same time. "I'm okay. You probably shouldn't leave the tent. Father might shoot you."

I'd like to see him fucking try.

My arousal is not settling down in the slightest. My eyes are adjusting to the dim light of the lamp, and I can see her pretty face much clearer now. Her tears are slowing down, and she has wiped her cheeks dry. Her lips look full and red, and her eyes are wide and dark.

I want to look into those beautiful eyes while I'm inside her. I want to see her face when she comes.

It occurs to me, at that very moment, that no one has ever seen her come before. For all I know, she never has. The whole topic unfolds in my mind, hurling fuel on the fire of my desire until it's blazing hot.

I will be her first. I'm the only one who will ever know the sounds she makes, how her face looks, the way her body responds to pleasure…

A primal need rises in me, called up by the intensity of my arousal and the knowledge that she is mine, and mine alone. When I look up into her face, I desperately want to see encouragement, desire, some form of eagerness that will tell me I can at least try to awaken her to me.

Her pretty face is still pensive, and tense. She's watching me with wide eyes, as if I'm a lit firecracker almost ready to explode. I sigh with resignation, trying to calm myself down.

Just stop thinking about how beautiful she is.

That's not even slightly possible, but even if I could, her sweet, intense scent is still all around me, like finely spun strawberry and sugar, just begging to melt on my tongue.

"Lena, I can tell you're still a virgin. It's okay."

She doesn't reply, but her body stiffens up as she looks away. I assume she's scared of me, so I back away a little more.

"I have absolutely no intention—or desire—to take your virginity this way. Not tonight, out in this fucking tent, under your father's order. Absolutely no fucking way."

She turns towards me, and there is a soft smile on her face. It's the best reaction I could have hoped for.

"I mean, I want to," I blurt out, unable to stop myself. "I do want you… and knowing I will be your first is a special pleasure, too. And this time…"

This time, there will be no one to stop me.

I don't finish that sentence out loud. She doesn't need to know about the fight I had with her father, the conflict between the packs, or the truckloads of illegal guns. She is innocence itself, and I have to protect her.

"Thank you, Jack," she says. "That means a lot to me."

Seeing her relax helps put me in a much better mood. I still feel tortured by the scent of cotton candy in the air, but I'm starting to get used to it. The anticipation of knowing I will taste it soon, and I will be the first and only one, helps me deal with my desire.

The tent is quiet again, and I try desperately to think of something to say. If I'm going to truly put her at ease, I need to be able to have a decent conversation.

"So, do you still like thriller movies?" I ask, feeling a rush of palpable relief that I have remembered something useful.

"Sure," she says, laughing. "I don't have a lot of money, so I don't go to the cinema much."

"I'll have to take you. My husbandly duty. We can make it a regular date."

"Sounds good!"

"Have you streamed any good movies at home?"

She shakes her head. "We don't have a good signal, and Father says streaming services are daylight robbery."

I feel like I've stumbled straight into a land mine, and I realize that's going to happen a lot. I have to be careful to pull her out of these uncomfortable topics and focus on something good.

"What about Scream 5 ? I know you loved those films."

"Oh, it was stupid," she scoffs, shaking her head. "They are really taking it too far now. They should have stopped at three. Four was utterly ridiculous."

"Are you kidding me? Four was excellent!"

"No fucking way!" she exclaims. "You're delusional! It was a total farce."

"It was more believable than five!"

Somehow, we've gotten very close to each other, and I didn't even notice it happening. The scent of cotton candy is so thick I feel like I'm drowning in a soft, sugary cloud. I can't help it—I open my mouth a little, as if I could taste that strawberry tang in the air.

Lena tilts her head to the side, closing her eyes. I'm a weak man. I can't resist a sign like that, not at a time like this.

I lean forward and touch my mouth to hers gently. The tiny moan that slips through her lips sounds like pleasure, and I lean in even more, kissing her deeply.

When her hands come up and touch my shoulders, I'm worried she is going to push me away, but instead, she grabs me and pulls me closer. I try to hold myself up, but she rolls onto her back, pulling me down on top of her.

I'm completely immersed in the sugary, sweet scent of her. I explore gently with my tongue, parting her lips and deepening the kiss. When she clutches my shoulders and writhes under me, I groan with pleasure, trying to keep still as she wraps her body around mine.

I manage to hold myself up for a few seconds, but when she wraps her legs around me and thrusts with her hips, I completely lose my mind. Her body presses against me, warm and soft, while her lips knead at mine and her tongue hesitantly explores my mouth.

I run one hand down her side, thrilled by the feel of her. I fill my hand with one breast and squeeze it gently. She moans, thrusting her hips into me, so I squeeze her even harder. She cries out, a short, sharp sound born from surprise and pleasure at once.

Her small hands creep around my waist, reaching up my back. She digs her fingers into me, using her grip to balance the thrusts from her hips. I can't help it; I start to thrust back towards her, setting up a rhythm that tortures me and pleasures me all at once.

I keep my hands above the waist and on top of the clothes, even though my every urge is screaming at me to rip her panties out of the way, open my pants, and join us together in one long, hard thrust. Her hot mouth on mine, the way she moves against me, and the thought of finally taking her is too much for me.

My hands tighten on her, and I lean forcefully into the kiss, pushing her into the ground. I grind my hips forward, swiftly approaching a tipping point I know I can't return from. I gasp for breath, and as a wave of pleasure throbs through me, a deep growl vibrates in my chest, filling the tent with the sound of my primal need.

Lena stiffens underneath me, and I stop immediately. Even though my body is screaming for release and my wolf has almost completely taken me over, I prop my hands on the ground and lift myself up so we are no longer touching.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide and curious. She doesn't look scared, but I can tell she needs to stop.

I will not force her… I want her fully willing and embracing the strength of her desire. I will not take her until that moment.

For a few seconds, neither of us move, and for the first time, the silence is not awkward. She smiles, reaching up to brush my hair back from my forehead. I look into her beautiful face, and I can't believe I ever hurt her.

I had no choice! I would have hurt her far worse if I took her virginity and made promises to her I could not keep!

This thought does little to comfort me now. The only thing that does make me feel better is knowing that I can spend every single day of our lives making it up to her.

Not wanting to break the moment but knowing that I have to, I get up slowly and sit down next to her. Lena straightens up her dress and looks over at me with a soft smile full of secrets and mischief.

I'm tempted to kiss her again, but I hold myself back.

"It's probably close to dawn," I say. "We should head out and try to find some breakfast before we go back to my territory."

"That sounds good," she answers. "I'd like that."