No, she’d gone and opened her stupid mouth.
“Betsy.”
She raised her head to look at him. “Yes?”
“Run.”
“What?” His command didn’t immediately register with her. Had he told her to run?
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “Run.”
He wanted her to run? Her blood pumped faster—he meant what he said. That must mean he was going to chase.
Happiness burst inside of her, and she took off running. The apartment wasn’t that big, even if it was huge for Manhattan—three bedrooms, one being used as a home office, and three bathrooms, kitchen, eating area, and an outdoor balcony that ran the length of the place. She didn’t want to go out there. It was cold. That would be a last-resort hiding place.
She dashed into his bathroom, looking for anything with a scent. There was some Lysol under his sink, and she sprayed it around the room. Anything to throw him off from finding her right away. She rushed through the hall spraying the Lysol everywhere before running into the kitchen.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself. There were not that many places to hide in the kitchen. But it at least would give her cover while he searched elsewhere.
She kneeled on the floor, watching him when he stepped out of the guest room. Cyrus sniffed the air, looking every bit the predator. Would he fall for her trap? Would he go the way of the Lysol?
“Clever maneuver for so little time, princess.” His gaze turned to the kitchen, zooming in immediately to where she poked around the corner. “But I hunt for a living. I thought you wanted to run.”
He rushed toward her, and she yelped, dashing down the hall as he rounded the back end of the kitchen. All she could think about was getting back to the guest room, back to where he had held her on the bed and…
Two strong arms heaved her upward. She yelled when he slammed them both down on the soft bed, his body above hers. Betsy’s heart beat frantically, but Cyrus still seemed to be in control.
His face was above hers, and heavens, she craved him. She’d never known the meaning of that word before, but she did now. She craved Cyrus like she needed to breathe in air.
“Two things.”
He wanted to talk? “Yes?”
“I’m going to teach you how to run and hide from a werewolf so that, if you ever need to, you can.” He licked his lips, and she watched the movement of his tongue, fascinated. “And this desire to run, to be chased, is very wolf. Not weird. Not funny. It’s part of the mating dance. If you had been born to a pack, if you had known what you were, when we encountered each other for the first time, and recognized that we were mates, this is what we would have done. You would have run—and run—until I caught you.”
“And then what?” She lived for his next words. Please don’t let them be I would have left you alone and not touched you for weeks.
“I would have hauled you up against me.” He’d done that. That’s how they’d landed on this bed.
“And?”
“I would make you mine. Mark you. Put my scent up against you. Ravish your body until any thoughts of ever being with another fled from your mind. I would fuck you until neither of us could stand again.” He panted, and his pupils were huge. She was glad to see she wasn’t the only one affected by his words. “But you don’t want that. You’ve already told me no, and I need to respect that. I’m not an animal. Not entirely anyway. I can dictate what instincts I give in to. If you want that, if you want it now, you need to tell me that. Say yes.”
He wanted her to speak? To form words? It took her half a minute before she could. “Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“How many times are you going to make me say it?” She pounded on his chest, but he didn’t move. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“No regrets tomorrow. I won’t allow it.”
Ever the Alpha. She leaned up and bit down on his bottom lip. Of course, if anyone could dictate how someone else would feel, it would be her Alpha. And she had no doubt that, after what they were about to do, that is what he would be. Her Alpha.
His mouth crushed hers. There was nothing gentle about Cyrus in that moment. He commanded her mouth to acquiesce to his, and she did. She softened beneath him, wanting to be complete in the way she could be only if he claimed her.
She clawed at his chest, wanting him naked, wanting no barriers between them.
He stopped her movements. “Not so fast. We’ll get there. I promise.”
His words did stop her frenzy and she took a deep breath. Cyrus was right. There was time. She could savor this. When he kissed her again, it was gentle, and she sighed against his mouth.