“Why?”
I draw up my knees. Cover myself. “Just the side effect of being the short, busty sidekick to a tall, elegant, cypress-like princess creature.” My cheeks are hot. “It’s nice, I guess. That you’re not disappointed in the way I look.”
“Disappointed?”
“Yeah. I mean, it could have shaken out in a different . . . Why are you staring at me like I just told you that angels’ wings are made of porridge?”
He exhales, speechless. “You know what? You wouldn’t get it.”
“How so?”
“Leave it alone.”
“But I want to know.”
“Just . . .” He bites the inside of his cheek, looking for the right words. “You are my mate. I would have wanted you no matter what. I will want you no matter what. But you are also . . .” He licks his lips. “If someone had given me a piece of paper and asked me to list everything I liked, everything I dreamed of, everything that I was sure would make me happy, you would have been the final product of it.”
My heart thuds in my chest.
Good line, I want to tell him, just to dull the way it stabs through my ribs.
No need to waste it on me, I’m already a sure thing.
But it’s so obviously not a line. He’s trying to explain something to me, something that he knows in his belly, and I . . .
I guess I’m listening.
“There could never be disappointment, because there were never any comparisons, or expectations, or hopes, or standards to meet. There’s only . . .” He casts a glance around the room, searching. Then his eyes settle on me. “There is only you, Serena.”
It’s unacceptable, his adoring expression. I hide my burning face in my knees and scramble for something, anything to say, but my mind is blank and-
“Hey.” He pulls me closer, into his arms again. “It’s a Heat. It’s normal, feeling unsteady. I’ve got you, okay?” I nod, and he twines his fingers with mine. Lifts my arm and inhales the skin in the crook of my elbow, where my scent pools. “I could live here,” he murmurs. “In this crease.” A kiss, soft lipped.
“I thought my elbows were too ‘fucking sharp’ for your distinguished taste.”
He smiles. Nips at me. “It’s going to build up again. Soon. You’ll feel more and more out of control.”
“More out of control than earlier?”
“Yes.”
“How do you even know?”
“I’m the Alpha of this pack. I know everything.”
I squint. “What’s the square root of pi?”
“Zero point nine.”
“Okay, I should have asked you a question
I know the answer to. I’m just surprised, since you’ve never had the exigency of spending a Heat with- “
“I educated myself when you started smelling like you’d have the exigency.” He lifts me into the curve of his body. Spoons me. “Just fucking believe me for once.”
“Hmm.”
“Rest while you can,” he orders.
Why not? This is nice. Perfect, even. I fall asleep nestled under his chin. Still thinking that- worse than earlier? Probably an exaggeration. I’ll be fine.
IT’S NOT. (AN EXAGGERATION.) BUT I AM. (FINE.)
Better than.
It hits me halfway through the first day, in the late afternoon light, a fleeting spell of clarity as I stare at Koen’s wide shoulders glistening above. He rocks inside me slowly, a languid, wet rhythm. I just came. A couple of times. He hasn’t yet. He tries to make it last as long as possible, every single time, and this is the best I can recall feeling in years. My world, when narrowed to just Koen and our nest, is light and kind and full of revelries.
I lean back. Study his slack mouth. His eyes, closed, squeeze tighter with every thrust. Like he has to brace himself. Build a dam every time, to keep his orgasm from spilling out. Pleasure is written all over his features.
I smooth his damp hair back with my palm and say, “Koen.”
His eyelids flutter open. He nuzzles into my hand like a big, half-tamed beast. Presses a biting kiss into the flesh right undermy thumb, an invitation to continue. It makes my insides spasm.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For this.”
“I told you not to- “
I arch to shut him up with a kiss, and with a soft curse he slides one arm between my back and the mattress to pull me up.
“You’re welcome. Lucky for you, I’m so fucking”- a harder stroke- ” selfless.”
I inhale sharply, already quivering along his cock. My orgasm builds quickly, violently, a warm rush that has my thighs locking around his hips. “No, I . . . Thank you. For making this so- “
Before I can tell him how disorientingly good this feels, his knot is growing, thick, inescapable, and he’s too busy hiking one of my legs back toward my chest to hear what I have to say.
This is how things should be, I think. Always.
AFTER WEEKS OF TRUANCY, MY APPETITE RETURNS AT THE WORST possible time.
I decide to give it the cold shoulder and focus on what’s rapidly becoming my favorite thing in the world: thrashing around and begging Koen to do something, anything, everything to me. Unfortunately, he really did educate himself about Heats. Not only did he memorize some doctor’s office pamphlet, but he’s also extremely literal about it.
We can start again after you have a strawberry, he tells me.
One more sip of juice. Like that. Be good. Give me one more.
Open up. No, not later
– now.
You have to drink. A kiss against the flushed skin of my throat.
Girls in Heat only get what they ask for if they finish their water.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply