NICK
I pull out of her slowly and she winces and I feel it in my chest.
Her eyes are closed. Her lashes are wet. Her breathing is still uneven and her hand is still wrapped around my wrist, holding my palm against her throat, and I have to gently peel her fingers away to move.
She lets go and her hand drops to the desk beside her hip and she doesn’t open her eyes.
I pull my boxers up. Walk to the bathroom off the side of my office. The tile floor is cold under my bare feet and the light is too bright after the amber of the office. I run the cloth under warm water, wring it out, and catch my reflection in the mirror. My lip is swollen where she bit it. There are red lines down my neck from her nails. My eyes are still edged with gold. My wolf is quiet for the first time in five weeks bu
