3. Zara

3

ZARA

T he hot mug of coffee warms my chilled hands. I steal glances at Aksel across the rustic kitchen table. He hasn't said a word since grunting for me to take a seat when I shuffled back into the living area in his oversized shirt and joggers, which are swimming off my hips. He sits hunched over his steaming mug, alternating between staring broodingly into the inky liquid and shooting me brief looks that set my nerves jangling.

Aksel's body is slightly angled away from me. Still, I can't help noticing the taut lines of his shoulders outlining the contours of hard, knotted muscle beneath his snug thermal shirt. In the flickering glow from the fireplace, I can make out the stark, sinewy cords of his forearms disappearing beneath the shoved-up sleeves. Every part of him seems densely packed with power scarcely leashed beneath his granite exterior.

I have to resist the urge to squirm in my chair as my gaze involuntarily drops to the prominent bulge tenting his lap. Even when sitting, there's no disguising the distinctly male endowment evident in Aksel's loose sweatpants he changed into after I left his room. Heat steals across my cheeks and chest when I realize I'm staring.

Years of solitude in the isolated wilderness likely breeds a certain lack of inhibition. Aksel probably doesn't even realize how easily I can make out the thick outline and shape of his?—

"Is the coffee to your satisfaction, or were you hoping for something else to warm you up?"

Aksel's low, gravelly voice jerks me out of my thoughts. I look up, flustered, to find those glacial blue eyes drilling into me with dark intensity. My breath catches at the implication in his words and that I got caught staring at this guy's cock.

"N-no, the coffee is fine, thanks." I hastily drop my gaze down to my mug again, stirring the dark liquid with a spoon, having no other excuse to avoid his smoldering stare. "It's, um, it's been a long journey, so this really hits the spot."

For a stretch, the only sounds are the crackle of fire in the hearth and the insistent drumming of rain against the cabin windows. Then Aksel makes a low rumbling noise in his throat—between a dry chuckle and a grunt of sardonic acknowledgment. "And your journey has only just begun."

My cheeks burn hotter. Slowly, I risk lifting my gaze again to find my host openly regarding me. The way his eyes leisurely trail over every line and curve of my body makes me shudder—whether from discomfort or something more illicit, I can't tell.

Aksel doesn't try to mask his perusal like most men would. Instead, there's a confrontational quality to how he looks at me. In the heavy silence, it's as if he's staking an indisputable claim to having free rein over every inch of me.

My eyes reflexively drop once more to the unmistakable erection straining against his sweatpants. This time, his lips twist into a ghost of a knowing smirk before taking a slow, deliberate swig of coffee.

"It's been a long time since I've had a guest," he murmurs into his mug. "This cabin can get quite cold and lonely without company."

The statement causes my heart to lodge in my throat. My hands grip my mug tighter, and every nerve prickles with an unsettling awareness of being utterly alone with Aksel deep in this wilderness sanctuary of his. Isolated and cut off from the outside world, I am at his mercy entirely.

"Well, I certainly hope I won't be imposing too much," I reply, proud of how steady I keep my voice. "Once the weather clears, I'll need to head out to the areas mapped for data collection as soon as possible."

Aksel sets his mug down, eyeing me over the rim with a look that could cut glass. "This is my territory, Miss Driscoll. My rules. You'll go nowhere without my guidance and approval—and certainly not until the storms have passed completely." His nostrils flare as he holds my gaze in a silent battle of wills. "Is that understood?"

I give a jerky nod, unable to find my voice under the weight of that stare.

Rising from his seat, he circles around behind me. I feel rather than see his looming presence at my back as he leans close, braced against the table. The clean, earthy scent of him crashes over me in an overwhelming wave.

"This isn't a civilized place that follows society's rules, Miss Driscoll," Aksel rumbles, sending a shiver cracking down my spine. His heated breath brushes the sensitive skin at the back of my neck, raising goosebumps in its wake. "Out here in the harsh, uncivilized lands, only one rule matters—the strongest will survive."

Every muscle in my body has gone rigid. It's as if I can sense the predator baring its fangs and readying its jaws to devour me.

Aksel leans closer still. Thick, inescapable tension saturates the air. My heart thunders so violently in my ears that I almost miss the velvet growl of his next words:

"And I'm the apex predator here."

I can't stop the shudder that ripples through me. Every instinct screams at me to get up and flee, to put as much distance between myself and this man as possible. But some deeper, more primal part of me seems to have gone utterly still and calm in the face of his blatant threat.

I watch the bulging cords of muscle in Aksel's powerful forearms flex and shift as he braces his weight on the table, caging me in while he remains behind me. I can't tear my gaze away from the ink on his arms.

"You'll remain here until I deem it safe to proceed with your research. And you'll do exactly as I say without question or hesitation."

His head dips lower, the stubbled line of his jaw grazing the side of my neck. I can't stifle the whimper that escapes when his lips brush against the shell of my ear. "Do you understand, Miss Driscoll?" The proximity to such a powerful man sends a jolt to my core. Each consonant is precisely enunciated, underscored by his teeth grazing against my skin.

I give a tremulous nod, my throat too constricted to speak. Aksel's satisfied rumble of approval vibrates against me.

"Good girl." The timbre of his praise reverberates straight to my core, making me clench my thighs together. "I enjoy it when my guests learn to follow the rules."

He straightens and steps away slowly, allowing me to draw a shuddering breath as the charged tension abruptly dissipates. I almost mourn the loss of his presence surrounding me until I risk a glance up at him.

Aksel is eyeing me with a look of dark, ravenous hunger, and his cock is tenting his sweatpants. A sly, knowing smirk curves his lips when our gazes lock, and he makes no effort to conceal his arousal. Not that he could. It's huge and impossible to ignore.

"We'll have such fun together, Miss Driscoll." His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "So very much fun..."

Accepting this trip might have been a mistake.