Caleb
I couldn't shake the way Ava felt beneath me. The softness of her skin, the way her lips had molded perfectly to mine, the quiet gasps that escaped her as I touched her. The way she arched into me, her body responding to mine like she was made for me. The weight of my desire for her, the raw hunger, was like nothing I'd ever felt before.
I stood staring at the door, the interruption still echoing in the back of my mind, I let out a slow breath, trying to reign it all back in. I could hear her moving behind me, the rustle of sheets as she slipped out of bed, probably as rattled as I was. Her scent of arousal filled the room—warm, sweet, intoxicating—and I could still feel the weight of her body against mine, could still hear the way she'd whispered my name.
I swallowed hard as another knock sounded, this time louder, more insistent. My hands itched to go back to her, to finish what we'd started, but my mind screamed at me to calm the hell down.
"Coming," I called, my voice rougher than I'd intended. I ran a hand through my hair and glanced over my shoulder as Ava slipped into the bathroom, her eyes downcast, a blush coloring her cheeks.
I sighed heavily, the knot of tension still tightening in my chest. I forced myself to the door, each step feeling like a goddamn mile, and when I pulled it open, I was met with the sight of the hotel manager standing there, an apologetic look on his face.
"Good morning, Mr. Langston. I'm terribly sorry to bother you," he began, wringing his hands nervously. "We've had a small issue with the plumbing on this floor, and I just wanted to inform you—"
His voice became a dull hum in the background as I tried to focus, but all I could think about was Ava. The way she'd looked at me, the way her body had felt beneath mine, the tension, the desire… I'd never wanted anyone like this before. Not in this way. I'd been with women before, sure, but this was different. With Ava, it wasn't just the physical pull—it was something deeper. It was the need to protect her, to care for her, to make sure she was okay in ways that went far beyond lust.
The manager was still talking, something about water pressure and inconvenience, but my mind was a million miles away.
I nodded, not really listening, just wanting to get him out of here so I could breathe again. When he finally left, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, running a hand down my face. What the hell was happening to me?
The last few days had been a whirlwind of tension, both emotional and physical, but this morning had pushed me over the edge. My desire for Ava was intense, almost too much to control. It wasn't just that I wanted her—it was that I needed her. In a way that made my chest tighten and my breath come faster just being around her. I'd never felt anything like this before, not with any other woman, not even close. And that scared the shit out of me.
I'd had my share of women, sure, but none of them had ever made me feel like this. None of them had ever made me burn. The need wasn't just physical, though—there was something that made me want to know every thought that crossed her mind, to understand her, to protect her in a way that went far beyond just the primal physical wants.
But even more than that. I cared about her, about how she felt, about what she thought of me. I worried about her in a way that was new, foreign, unsettling. I wanted her happiness as much as I wanted her body. I wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to know that she felt safe with me.
I sighed again and glanced toward the other bathroom, hearing the soft sound of the shower running from where Ava had disappeared. I knew she was probably just as flustered as I was, trying to sort through the mess of feelings that had erupted between us. And I needed to do the same.
I stepped into the second bathroom, quickly stripping off my clothes and turning on the cold water, hoping it would calm the fire that was still burning under my skin. As I stood beneath the freezing spray, my hands pressed against the cool tile, I tried to focus. Tried to remind myself to take this slow, to not scare her off with the intensity of what I was feeling.
But no matter how hard I tried, the image of her lying beneath me, the sound of her breathless moans, the feel of her body responding to mine—it all played in my mind over and over again. And no matter how cold the water was, it didn't help.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions.
I wanted her. So badly it hurt. But it wasn't just about the sex—it was about everything. About her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't watching. And that scared me more than anything else. Because for the first time, I wanted something more than just a physical connection. I wanted her—Ava—in every way possible.
The cold water streamed over me, but it did nothing to cool the fire raging inside. I pressed my palms against the tiles, trying to focus, trying to get my head straight, but it was no use. All I could think about was Ava—her scent, her body, the way she molded herself to me.
My fangs ached. That primal itch, the urge to mark her, was crawling up from deep inside me, and it scared the shit out of me. I had never felt anything like this before. I'd been with women, sure, but this? This was something else entirely.
The need to mark her, to claim her, wasn't just about desire—it was something deeper, something instinctual that I couldn't ignore.
Alphas didn't just feel that urge for anyone. The need to mark a mate was tied to something in our souls. It only happened when you were bonded, when your wolf recognized that person as your other half, your fated mate.
But Ava wasn't my fated mate.
I knew that. She'd told me about her past, about how she'd found and rejected her mate. There was no way she could be mine, not with the rules of fate. Which made this—all of this—even more confusing. If she wasn't my mate, why the hell was I feeling this urge to mark her? Why did I want to protect her, to claim her in a way I'd never wanted anyone else?
The cold water did nothing to ease the tension coiled tight in my chest. The more I thought about it, the more agitated I became. My wolf growled low inside me, irritated by my confusion, by my hesitation. It wanted her, plain and simple. It didn't care about what made sense. It didn't care that she wasn't my fated mate. It wanted to mark her, to claim her, and it was driving me insane.
I slammed my hand against the wall, the echo of the impact barely registering in my ears as I clenched my jaw, trying to fight back the primal instinct gnawing at my mind. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.
I'd never wanted anyone like this before. The urge to mark her wasn't just physical—it was emotional, something deeper. I cared about her, worried about her in ways that didn't make sense. Every time she smiled, every time she laughed, it hit me harder than it should. And when she looked sad, or scared, or even a little bit uncertain? I wanted to fix it. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to see her smile again, to see that light in her eyes. It wasn't just about claiming her—it was about her.
And that scared the hell out of me.
I ran a hand over my wet locs, exhaling hard as I turned off the water and leaned against the sink. The mirror reflected the raw tension in my face, my muscles tight and my jaw clenched. I could see the faint gleam of my fangs, and I clenched my fists, willing the primal urge away. This wasn't normal. Not for me. Not for an Alpha.
I grabbed a towel, drying off quickly as I forced myself to breathe, to calm down. Ava wasn't my mate. She couldn't be. But that didn't stop my body from reacting to her, from craving her, from needing her in a way that was way more than just physical.
I couldn't figure it out, and that was what scared me the most. There was no logical explanation for why I felt like this—no reason for why my fangs were itching to mark her, why my wolf was so restless around her, why the thought of her being hurt made me want to tear something apart.
The bathroom door opened slightly, and I heard the soft padding of Ava's footsteps as she moved quietly through the room, likely fresh out of her own shower. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to compose myself before stepping out.
I couldn't let her see this. Couldn't let her know how much this was affecting me. Not when I didn't even understand it myself.
As I walked back into the room, my eyes found her immediately. She was standing by the window, looking out at the ocean, her braids cascading down her back and around her shoulders. The sight of her standing there, so calm and beautiful, stirred something in me again. I felt that familiar tug, the same urge I'd been battling all morning.
Damn it, Caleb, pull it together.
I took a deep breath, forcing my body to calm down, even though everything inside me screamed to go to her, to pull her into my arms, to mark her as mine. But I couldn't. I wouldn't.
But I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up.