Chapter 12
1343 Words
Nathan tossed in his sleep, sheets tangled around his legs, his chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. His body was slick with sweat, his muscles tense, every nerve in his body on fire.
In the dream, Rory was there—bare, beautiful, and wild like the moonlit forest inside his soul.
Her dark eyes were half-lidded with desire, lips parted just slightly as she bit the bottom one, her chest rising and falling with anticipation. She laid on his bed, the dim lighting casting shadows over her smooth, flawless skin, highlighting the Mandala lotus tattoo that danced along the curve of her neck. She shifted her legs slightly, rubbing her thighs together, tension mounting in every curve of her body.
Nathan hovered over her, his hands running down her sides as he pressed her against the bed. His mouth trailed kisses across her throat, down her chest, pausing at the tattoo that sat just under her breast. His lips ghosted over it, savoring the feel of her beneath him.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her moans breathy and desperate as she arched into him, urging him closer. Her nails scraped gently down his back, dragging electricity across his skin. Their hips aligned, and he could feel her heat, her need, her everything pulling him in like gravity.
She whispered his name.
Begged for more.
His lips met hers in a kiss that was all teeth, tongue, and desperation. He lined himself up—
BRRRRRRIIIIINGGGGGGG!
The alarm shattered everything.
Nathan jerked upright, gasping for breath like he’d been pulled out of water. The dream scattered in fragments, but the sensations clung to him like smoke.
His heart was pounding.
He reached over and slapped the alarm clock, silencing it with a groan. Then he felt it.
Sticky. Wet.
He glanced down. His grey sheets were damp, clinging to his hips. He lifted them hesitantly, and sure enough—
“s**t,” he muttered, letting the sheet drop back down.
That... had never happened before.
He’d had s*x dreams, sure. He was eighteen, not a monk. But not once had he lost control like that. Not even close.
And the worst part?
It felt real. It felt like his body had stopped knowing the difference between fantasy and instinct.
Between wanting her... and needing her.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand down his face, still trying to shake off the remnants of the dream. He stripped out of his shorts and yanked the messy sheets off the bed, tossing them in the hamper before heading into the bathroom.
The cold shower was immediate punishment.
He braced himself against the tiled wall, letting the water hit his shoulders and back as he tried to cool off the storm raging inside him.
It didn’t help.
Even under the freezing spray, Rory haunted him—those damn eyes, her soft voice, her warm skin under his hands.
“Get. It. Together,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
By the time he emerged from the guest house twenty minutes later, he looked decent but felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a grizzly. He dragged himself into the main house, still towel-drying his hair.
Peter was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking something green from a glass and scrolling on his phone. He looked up as Nathan walked in and let out a low whistle.
“Dude... you look like you just got hit by a bus full of regrets.”
Nathan groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m late for work.”
Peter narrowed his eyes, setting down his drink. “No offense, but you look more like someone who’s late for an exorcism. What the hell happened to you last night?”
Nathan paused, leaning on the counter. “Don’t ask.”
Peter smirked. “Was it the hot new girl who turned your brain to oatmeal?”
Nathan shot him a warning look, but Peter just grinned wider.
“I knew something happened. You ran off like a psycho and then came home sweaty and broody.”
Nathan didn’t answer. He just grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet and peeled it open.
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me. But if this turns into some creepy werewolf ‘Twilight’ imprinting situation, I’m buying silver.”
Nathan almost choked on his bar.
Peter laughed and stood, heading toward the fridge. “You better get your act together, dude. That girl’s gonna eat you alive.”
Nathan didn’t say it, but he already knew.
She was.
And his wolf was begging for it.
---
Rory’s breath came in soft gasps, her legs tangled in the sheets as her body writhed beneath them. She was dreaming—but not like any dream she’d ever had before.
This one felt real. Tangible. Electric.
Nathan was there. Standing over her. His lean, muscular form lit only by a soft amber glow. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths. His bright blue eyes were locked onto hers—hungry, intense, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He was naked. Confident. Wild.
He hovered over her, his hands bracing on either side of her head, caging her in without ever making her feel trapped. Her pulse raced as his mouth found the tender skin of her neck, kissing softly at first… then with more pressure. More need. He trailed lower, brushing his lips along the curve of her collarbone, then down to the top of her chest, hovering at the edge of the tattoo beneath her breast like it belonged to him.
His body pressed against hers—hot, heavy, and powerful. She could feel the smooth contours of his back, the hard lines of his muscles shifting against her as she gripped his back. His skin was impossibly warm, like he burned from the inside.
She arched into him instinctively, her legs parting slightly, toes curling under the sheets. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, her nails dragging across his skin as her body responded before her mind could even catch up.
She whispered his name.
“Nathan…”
He looked down at her, his eyes blazing with want and something else—need. Not just physical, but soul-deep. He reached between them, guiding himself between her legs.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, barely audible.
He dipped down again, kissing her with a hunger that sent heat surging through her belly and straight down her thighs. Her whole body pulsed with it, her heart racing, blood pounding in her ears.
Then—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Her alarm blared from the nightstand, yanking her violently from the dream.
Rory shot up in bed, heart pounding, the sheets a twisted mess around her hips. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the morning light, confused, flustered, and entirely too warm.
“What the hell…” she whispered, rubbing her eyes.
Her entire body felt flushed, alive with sensations that had no business lingering after a dream. Her thighs were clenched, her skin damp with sweat, and her pulse refused to settle. The lingering echo of his touch, still danced on her skin.
She stared at the ceiling, still trying to catch her breath.
She wasn’t that girl. She didn’t get caught up in guys—especially not ones with egos and crazy ex-cheerleader girlfriends.
But this wasn’t normal. Not even close.
That dream had felt too real. She could still feel the pressure of his body, the warmth of his breath on her throat, the ache in her chest when she whispered his name.
And God… the way he looked at her.
She sat up slowly, dragging her hair into a messy bun and trying to shake off the leftover tension. But even as she stood and padded toward the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, the feeling lingered.
Nathan Grey wasn’t just in her dreams.
He was under her skin.
And that scared the hell out of her.
- Writer
