It wasn’t until she implied that I would have another woman in my bed that the tenuous hold on my control finally snapped. I slammed her against the wall, furious that she would ever think that I would take another woman to my bed when she’s just down the hall.
Ever since I laid eyes on her, there’s only been one woman for me. I may not understand it, but I know my wolf would never accept another woman. Not now, maybe not ever.
Maybe I’m more my mother’s son than I ever realized.
It was then that something shifted between us, something raw, something that burned in my soul.
She told me I didn’t need to worry about her, as if that’s even an option for me. Even if she wasn’t my ward, I would worry about her. My need to ensure her safety is so strong it’s almost instinctual.
And then I snapped. My mouth claimed hers in a demanding, possessive kiss.
The moment my lips touched hers, I realized just how inexperienced Enya is. If this isn’t her first kiss, it’s very close. But that didn’t stop my wolf from claiming what he feels is his. He, or maybe it’s me, I’m not sure anymore, demanded entrance to her mouth.
She gasped when I ran my tongue across her lips, and I took advantage of the opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth and taste her sweet, floral taste. Like a moth to a flame, I already know I’ll never get enough of her taste. It’s delicate and earthy, and oh so sweet.
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Chapter 44
Her hands slide around my neck, and I press my body against hers, needing to possess her, needing to brand myself on her body and soul forever.
It isn’t until my brain finally registers her sweet moans and my nose finally acknowledges the strong scent of her arousal that reality comes crashing back to me.
I rip myself away from her, panting with my need for her and the effort it took to pull away from a taste and a scent that is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, and I know I’ll never get enough of.
She stares back at me, her eyes wide, her lips swollen from my kiss, and her hair a mess from my hands.
I slide my hand through my hair, trying to get a grip.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I watch the surprise and the desire dissolve into anger and shame.
“Sure,” she spits out, turning toward the door.
I slam my hand against the wall, refusing to let her leave.
“This is NOT a rejection,” I say slowly.
“Really. Because that’s EXACTLY what it feels like,” she says, voice catching.
her
I growl and push forward, pressing her body against the wall again. I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger and turn her face, forcing her to look at me.
“You think I’m always in control?”
“Aren’t you,” she growls at me.
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