Page 186 of Marked By His Hunger
“Have you more questions?” he asked, still touching me, like he couldn’t stop.
Neither could I.
“How old are you?”
“Three hundred and twenty-seven,” he answered calmly.
“Holy fuck.”
He tilted his head.
“Is that old?”
I laughed breathlessly.
“You’ve never done this before?”
“That is correct.”
I stared at him.
“But you’re so good at it.”
His laugh—low, rich—wrapped around me.
“Do not shy away now, bold Serena. I enjoy your honesty.”
I bit my lip.
He moved instantly.
Of course he did.
He replaced my teeth with his mouth, kissing me again, slower this time, but no less consuming.
“You want to know why I waited,” he murmured.
“Yes.”
“Because I never trusted myself enough to let go.”
My chest tightened.
“Then why me?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Because you are my fated mate.”
His lips brushed mine.
“My body.”
Another kiss.
“My soul.”
My breath hitched.
