"Sometimes it amazes me that I can even be with you like this," I tell Sinclair, nuzzling his shoulder.

We're still in his bed, and I'm not fully recovered from our conversation. I'm beginning to think a hypnotist might be necessary to unlock my past, but for now, I'm thrilled to revel in the intoxicating glow of our intimacy. "I learned to trust Mike with my body—but I could never tell him any of thisthen again, he wouldn't have wanted to know."

Sinclair purrs, "Well, if you hadn't already figured it out, I think it's safe to say you've made a serious upgrade from that weasel."

"Oh, I know it," I reply, my head whirling with emotions. I still feel fragile, but I'm also aching to be close to Sinclair. I need his strength, and I want to stop dwelling on the past. I want to make new memories with him—good memories to replace the bad ones haunting me. "You are better in every way, Dominic," I tell him in a sultry tone, straddling his waist.

Sinclair chuckles, running his hands up my thighs and under the hem of my nightdress, settling on my hips. "Are you trying to seduce me, trouble?"

"I'm just curious to see if reality can live up to my dreams," I shrug, trying not to feel embarrassed by my boldness. "You know, that was the first time I ever had an orgasm that I didn't give myself."

"Oh, really?" His pupils dilate, black pools slowly consuming his emerald irises. "You really weren't kidding about Mike's shortcomings."

I bite my lip and shake my head, lowering myself until my breasts graze his muscular chest. "And I haven't even experienced true intimacy yet."

Sinclair groans, his fists compulsively squeezing my bare skin. "Baby, we've been over this. If we start this, I won't be able to stop."

"Start what?" I ask innocently, kissing his neck as I deftly unbutton his shirt. Inch by inch of his contoured abs appear, dusted with dark hair. I slide my palms over his hard planes, pushing his clothing aside. I nibble his jaw and lean up to kiss him, but before I can, I'm flipped onto my back. Suddenly, the massive alpha is hovering over me, his eyes glowing with untamed desire.

"Ella, we can't," he insists, the words a ragged growl. "If I claim you, it might awaken your wolf."

That was a mistake. The moment he mentions claiming me, the little voice in my head screams, Oh yes, please. My wolf begs. I need to be his. I need his mark.

She's not the only one; suddenly, all I can think about is Sinclair sinking his teeth into that special spot. I need that oneness with him, the white light that burst in my soul during our shared dream. I was already aroused, but now my desire explodes. I'm consumed by need for him, and all other thoughts vanish.

Make him claim us! I'll go crazy if he doesn't.

"But we don't know that it will. There's only a chance, right?" I suggest. It's not that I don't care about the risk to the baby; it's that this need has overwhelmed my logic. "The doctor was only guessing—no one really knows how this all works," I press, reaching for him again. Sinclair promptly catches my wrists and pins them above my head. I'm completely immobilized, which, instead of frightening me or triggering a panic attack, fills me with a sense of utter safety. I peek up at him from beneath my lashes. "Don't you want to?"

"Goddess Ella, I already want to claim you so badly it's killing me," he rumbles, sounding barely in control. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be. The risks are too great." His sharp eyes pierce me, and his raw power washes over me in waves, urging submission while fueling my lust. "Make no mistake, I can't wait for your wolf to emerge, but not at the cost of the baby."

My lower lip quivers as I realize I'm playing with fire. No, not the baby. We can't hurt the baby. My wolf protests, sounding more conflicted than I've ever heard her. Rafe, my Rafe. The horrible thing is, as guilty as I feel about potentially endangering my unborn child, I'm still writhing with need.

"I don't want to hurt him either," I tell Sinclair, my voice a squeak.

"I know, little one," Sinclair assures me. "I never thought you did. It's just your instincts. I'm afraid that dream was a blessing and a curse—we know what you are now, but your wolf is fighting harder to emerge now that she's tasted freedom. She's going to push us both, Ella."

"So what do we do?" I ask anxiously. "How do I keep her at bay?"

A low growl sounds in my head, and I realize the predator in question doesn't appreciate this suggestion. Oh, hush, I scold her. You're not helping.

"I'll help you," Sinclair promises, flashing his fangs in a way that's both ravenous and reassuring. "I'll give you the relief you need, and if your wolf pushes me to claim her, I'll remind her who's in charge here." His dark promise sends a delicious shiver down my spine, but he continues, low in my ear. "It's the most natural thing in the world that she wants my mark, but it's my mark to give, not hers to take."

I writhe in his arms, whimpering. When I speak, it's as if the voice in my head is speaking through me. "But I want it."

"And I'll give it to you when the time is right, mate," Sinclair purrs, his husky tones vibrating through my body with authority. This isn't the first time I've felt as though I'm speaking directly to his wolf, but it's the first time I've experienced my own inner animal taking over in response.

I arch my back, pressing against him, and wind my legs around his waist, rocking my hips against him. He growls, but I extend my neck, all but begging for his bite. I don't even recognize myself: I'm feral and wanton, and I don't care.

"Keep it up, Ella," he warns, shackling both my wrists in one hand so the other can glide down and close over my bottom. "And you're going to get yourself a punishment instead of a reward."

The creature inside me isn't sure which she'd prefer. I remember how incredible it felt to be completely dominated by Sinclair. Another mystery explained: of course I enjoyed him taking control—since it's exactly what she-wolves need from their mates. Still, right now, the word reward is far more tempting. Sinclair has made it clear he isn't going to give in, so I can keep pushing him and earn another demonstration of his power, or I can just let him make me feel good.

Sinclair's expression softens as he watches me deliberate, but only slightly. "You're going to have plenty of chances to rebel in the future, mate. Tonight, let's just be together."

"You're really going to make me wait until after the baby arrives?" I ask, horrified. "When my body will be a disaster zone and we'll be completely sleep-deprived, not to mention have a kingdom to run?"

"We'll manage it, Ella. You'll see," Sinclair vows, softening his hold on my body and pressing a lingering kiss to my lips.

When we part, I can only gaze up at him with liquid eyes. "And in the meantime?" I ask hopefully, thinking of his promised reward. Please let that mean he's going to touch me!

He chuckles, glancing at the bedding. "In the meantime, you're not the only one who wants to see if reality lives up to dreams." He rears up, stripping off my flimsy nightdress and sliding my body up onto the pillows. "I think it's long past time that I taste you again." As he settles between my legs, hooking his arms beneath my thighs and lowering his mouth to my aching clitoris, he pauses to give me a final, wolfish grin. "Try not to get too wild, my love—we wouldn't want to destroy the nest."

At first, I think he's exaggerating—if he's only going to pleasure me and we're not actually going to make love, how rambunctious can things get? But in the end, he proved me wrong—we had to remake the nest.