His touch became demanding, almost forceful. She quivered, fighting the sensations coursing through her, fighting to remain passive. He clasped her rear, pressing her closer still, so that all she could feel was the hammering of his heart and the pulsing heat of his erection.
A heat she ached to feel deep inside.
He kicked aside the chair and pushed her back against the wall. Pinning her with his weight, he rubbed his hardness against her. It felt so good she had to bite back a groan. She reached for kinetic energy and undid his zipper, thrusting his pants and boxers down to his ankles. There was very little gentleness in the way he entered her, his thrusts hard and deep and almost angry. But it didn't matter. Right now she wanted him any way she could get him.
Maybe there was wolf in her, as well. Given what her mother had been, it was certainly more than possible.
He made another sound deep in his throat then abruptly pushed away from her. His chest heaved as he sucked in air, and his eyes were wild with anger and passion combined.
"Not like that." His voice was little more than a growl. "Never like that. Not with you."
Though she felt like dancing, all she did was raise her eyebrows. "But it's what you want, isn't it?"
"There's a difference — "
"Yes," she cut in. "There is. And why do you think that is?"
He didn't answer. Maybe he never would. Maybe all this was for nothing, and she was nothing more than a fool to even be worried about it. Maybe she should do as her grandmother had suggested and just enjoy the time they had together.
Except that she wanted the chance to explore the promises he made with his touch and his body and his eyes. Even if, in the end, all it amounted to was nothing more than a semi-serious moment.
But such exploration required two willing participants, and right now, there was still only one.
She sighed and stepped past him. "I'm going for a shower." And a cold one at that.
He didn't reply and he didn't stop her, though his gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked away.
* * * *
Ethan grabbed the door key and strode into the night. He needed to put distance between him and Kat. Needed to cool the thrumming desire to take what she had so readily offered. To finish in anger what she'd started in anger.
The rain lashing his skin was icy, but it did little to cool the ardor pounding through his blood. He'd come as close as he'd ever come to losing control tonight, and it was an experience he didn't want to complete. Not with Kat. Not with anyone. He'd spent most of his adult life fighting that part of him, keeping it fully leashed, and he had no intention of letting all that slip —
especially now, when Janie's life was at stake.
He strode across the road and onto the beach. Waves pounded the shoreline, seething whitely in the storm-swept darkness. He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and stopped on the edge of the foam-kissed sand.
He felt like those waves — tossed a hundred different ways and unable to do anything about it. The past couldn't be altered. Nor could the affect it had had on him. Change was impossible. Because of what he was. Because of the curse that was his heritage.
Kat, with all her knowledge of the supernatural, should have been the one person in the world who could truly understand that.
So why didn't she? Why did she keep on insisting there was more to them than there ever could possibly be?
He raised his face to the sky, letting the stinging rain numb his skin. Wished it could do the same to his mind. His blood. His need for Kat.
The moon had a lot to answer for, he thought grimly.
And yet, was it the moon's fault he hungered for her in a way he'd never hungered for a woman before? Or that he'd never felt anything as strong as this in his adult life?
Maybe it was just worry for Janie. Maybe it was the loneliness that had haunted him for the last few years. Maybe it was just a growing distaste of seeking satisfaction from an endless line of faceless women.
Or maybe, as she'd suggested, there was something between them.
But if that were the case, it was a seed that was destined to wither and die. Because of the past. Because of Jacinta, who had stolen his heart and his dreams, only to destroy both.
Be honest with her, Gwen had advised. He could at least do that — offer Kat the truth, or as much of it as she needed to know. Because no matter how much he might hunger for her, there was nothing else left for him to give.
For the first time in many years, he viciously cursed the woman he'd once loved, then turned and headed back to the cabin.