Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I found it humorous he was so worked up about this. It was just clothes, after all. But I could understand pride and his need to take care of me. So I kept any more amusement to myself. If I only knew one thing about Lycan males, it was that they were hella possessive.
Something to get used to for sure.
“Besides,” I whispered. “I’m yours.”
His gaze dropped to the claiming mark again, and he growled in pleasure, but then his brows lowered as his eyes moved along either side of my neck. Before I knew what he was doing, he reached out and pulled the collar of my sweater down, revealing the tops of my shoulders. This low rumble left him, and he closed his eyes, breathing out roughly.
“Ah, lass,” he said in a deep, whiskey-sounding voice. “I dinna realize I was so rough last night. I could no’ control myself.” He opened his eyes, and I saw the regret on his face, the agony that he thought he’d hurt me. “My wolf was fierce with ye. Too fierce, especially for yer first time.”
I was shaking my head before he even finished speaking, then rose up on my toes to press my lips to his. “No,” I murmured against his mouth. “I don’t regret this, what we did, or anything else between us.” I kissed him again and again before pulling back. “I liked it all. I liked the roughness, how fierce you were.” I felt more arousal move through me. “I liked the pain and especially the pleasure that accompanied it.” Slowly that hard, sorrow-filled look on his face faded, and he leaned down to rest his forehead against mine. For long moments we just breathed the same air.
I hated that he felt bad, that he was in pain at the thought of hurting me, but it also told me he was a good man, he cared for me, and he only wanted to keep me safe, even from himself and his inner animal.
I lifted a hand and stroked his whisker-covered cheek. “I’m fine,” I reassured him again. “Truly.” My face heated when I whispered, “I hope it’s like that every time.” He growled low and leaned in to kiss me again, when we heard the front door open and footsteps coming closer.
“Christ, Cian,” Odhran said as he stepped farther into the kitchen, and his eyes latched to the area of my throat that was on display. “Neck’s fooking brutal, yeah?”
Cian growled low and positioned his body more in front of mine at the same time he adjusted the collar of my shirt so it covered my skin again.
Neither male spoke, but they sure as hell had a stare off. And after a tense moment, Odhran shook his head, cursed low, and walked over to the table to sit down.
“The sight just took me off guard. No need tae act all fooking territorial. Ye kno’ yer mate isn’t even on my mind.”
Odhran sounded distant, and now that I really looked at him, I could see the darkness under his eyes that showed he hadn’t slept. I felt my heart break now that I knew the truth about his mate.
I placed a hand on Cian’s arm and gently pushed him away. He retreated instantly, and I realized how much power I held over him. He was this big, strong paranormal creature, yet he folded for me with just a gentle touch of my hand on his arm. It was a heady sensation, but one that also made me feel vulnerable.
I walked over and took the seat across from Odhran, and although he wouldn’t meet my gaze, I knew he could feel me watching him. It was the subtle way his shoulders went back, how his spine straightened. I wanted to tell him that although I knew nothing about him and that we’d just met the night before, I empathized with him. Although I had never experienced what he had, I did know the pain of loss acutely.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, and although I wanted to take his hand in mine, I also didn’t want to instigate the jealous part of Cian, the one he couldn’t control because he was more animal than man.
Odhran lifted his head, and our eyes locked. I didn’t notice the large scar along his forehead and cheek. I didn’t notice the bags under his eyes or the weathered, exhausted expression on his face. What I noticed was a man who felt like he had nothing and was doing everything in his power to gain some control back.
I saw a man who felt like he had lost the only thing that meant anything to him. I saw a man who’d had the one woman who was born to be his taken away.
And for men like these, feeling as if they had no control or power was like a blow to the gut, draining their bodies until they were husks. It was as if they didn’t have a purpose.