28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

J ax took control of his beast and shifted as he watched the drenched woman before him.

He'd warned her not to run. Cain loved to chase. He was hard from the adrenaline, and all he wanted to do now was fuck. She was lucky he hadn't pinned her down and marked her.

And now she was on her fucking knees like she was waiting for him to desecrate that pretty mouth.

He groaned at the tempting picture just as lightning struck and illuminated him.

Even with the sound of the beating rain and thunder, he heard her gasp as she fell back. He heard everything. Her pumping heart, her whimper. Her bare legs splayed in front of her as she tried to scramble backwards on her ass. She looked helpless and completely vulnerable, and the beast inside him reared his ugly head, frothing at the mouth to dominate her.

He stepped forward, uncaring that he was in the middle of the road and a storm was raging around them. All he wanted was to sink in her flesh right where she was and show her who she belonged to. Mark her inside and out. Did she think she could run from him?

The thought made Cain howl in his head, his first normal reaction since the Cassie incident.

"I'm sorry," Layla whimpered. "Please don't kill me."

She had blood on her face, and the scent of it almost tipped him over the edge. But she had done that to herself; there was no one he could hunt down for that. The blood had already stopped flowing. Diedre's potion was still working in her body, so he calmed himself and let his gaze roam over her other wounds. Nothing serious. Nothing that would put a stop to what was coming.

Lightning struck again, and Layla saw he had moved closer to her. She yelped and rolled over quickly before getting to her feet and running back towards the packhouse.

Excitement, something he hadn't felt in years, rolled through him in waves. She was fast. Her long, strong legs quickly ate up the distance, and the sight almost stopped his heart. He knew she didn't know what she was doing to him, but... fuck, this was all the holidays he'd enjoyed, and battles he'd ever fought rolled up in one.

His dick hardened even more as he started to follow.

The young trainee who was supposed to have been watching the gate stood beside the guardhouse, his head hanging low. He projected so much fear that, for a moment, it distracted him and made him lose his focus.

"I'm sorry, Alpha. I won't fall asleep again."

He was a young kid who'd been called on to do this out of the blue, someone who'd yet to fight a battle. How Dylan thought the packhouse would be safe was beyond him if Layla had managed to sneak past him.

‘I'll deal with you later,' he said through the link.

He focused his senses on Layla again, but that little distraction had cleared some of the lust in his head. Layla was half-human; she wouldn't want to fuck outside in a storm. And since she'd been trying to run, chances were she wouldn't want to fuck at all.

But there she was, running through the trees and enticing his savage beast.

At the front of the packhouse, he could see activity there as the pack members started to bundle into their cars to drive back to their houses. He'd just left the room after Micah had mind-linked him, so he hoped none of them would wait around to speak to him. The storm was worsening, but Dylan would have to go out there to sort out the things he'd wanted to do alone because he would be busy. Very busy.

He started to jog in the direction Layla had taken, keeping his senses open so he could track her. His need to chase and mate intensified. The rain was muting everything, but after whatever had happened when she had changed for dinner, he didn't need to rely on his compromised senses. Something was pulling him towards her, something he could feel deeply as if Layla was a part of him. He slowed down when he reached a dense part of the woods at the side of the packhouse. Layla had stopped running.

He caught sight of her hiding behind a tree. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her heart nearly beat a hole in her chest. She was trembling—what had she said? Don't kill me? If only she knew that was the furthest thing from his mind. The canopy of the trees protected her from the storm, but it wouldn't protect her from him. From Cain.

Layla held herself still and bit her lip as if to stop herself from making a sound, and her eyes blindly searched the space in front of her. She couldn't see him, but he could see every inch of her. Every glorious inch. Her dress had ridden higher, so he could see her lace panties teasing him. He could see the gap between her legs where he was aching to be.

She was still a sight to behold, even looking so wet and dishevelled. His heart did the thing it had done before he had fucked her the first time. It started to beat. Hard and fast. Uncontrollably. Lust filled him in delicious waves as he slowly approached his prey.

"I told you not to run from me, Layla," he said huskily.

Layla sucked in a breath when she whipped her head forward and realised he was only inches away. She tried to move, but he quickly caged her against the tree trunk.

"Don't hurt me, Jackson," she whispered.

"I think you've been doing a good job of that all by yourself," he growled as he closed the gap between them.

Layla could tell which part of him was digging into her stomach, even if she couldn't see it. Her eyes widened, and she let out a shaky breath. He could scent everything. She was an odd mixture of scared and turned on.

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I don't know what you're doing to me, but you need to stop."

"That's not me, Layla. That's all you," he said as he brought his nose down to her neck and inhaled.

She smelled so good. How had he gone his whole life without ever coming across a scent like this? She was like heaven.

Cain rolled around in his head, eagerly waiting to claim his prize. There was too much vying for attention inside him. Too many emotions. Too many... feelings. He lowered his hands from the tree and put them around her, caging her against him. He let whatever was happening to him carry him away because he was too damn weak to fight it anymore. He needed her like his next breath.

"I can't think," Layla whispered.

"Then don't. You ran, and I caught you. Now let me give you what you really need," he whispered against her ear.

He picked her up without any effort and wrapped her leg around him. He didn't know why Layla liked that so much, but she made a sexy sound in the back of her throat, and her arms tightened around him. She wrapped her other leg around him before he could do it himself. It felt like she had surrendered.

The victory was like an aphrodisiac. His dick strained against her wet panties as she started to buck against him. Did she know she made those sounds? They shot through him right to his dick and made him lose his mind.

There was no fear anymore. Just lust. Uninhibited lust.

He groaned as he reached down and pushed her panties aside to test if she was as wet as he imagined. Soaking. Layla tightened on his fingers and made some more sounds that made his blood roar in his veins.

"Take me, Jackson," she moaned.

He didn't wait to be told again. He lined himself up and went balls deep in one movement. The tightness, the exquisite pleasure... There was no other thought in his head as he thrust into her over and over again. Her cries filled his ears and were carried away by the storm. He could see the look on her face, the wild abandon as she took all of him and clawed at his back. He had always preferred women who didn't hold back. Once again, he was struck by how right this was. She was made for him.

And then she was cumming.

His fingers dug into her ass as he held her in place, completely lost in all the emotions. She squeezed his dick as she arched her back and screamed his name. His balls tightened in response as he stilled inside her and released himself in long bursts.

He didn't know how long it took him to regain his senses, but when he did, he lowered her to her feet and covered her back up.

Layla could hardly hold herself up. He could see every tremble that went through her body like she had aftershocks. Her eyes closed as she rested against the tree. He'd already exhausted her.

But he wasn't done yet.

Without waiting for permission, he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and jogged out of the woods. Layla didn't protest. She had to know what was coming. The adrenaline was still rushing through him from the chase, so that had been nothing but an appetiser.

He kept his senses open to avoid the patrols and then slipped into the packhouse through the back doors. By the time he reached his bedroom, he was ready for her again. He didn't make it past the door before he captured her mouth with his and slipped into her again.

Everything else ceased to exist.

There was just Layla.