Page 98 of Wolfkissed
“For me?”
“Do you see anyone else in the room, woman? Have you noticed how often I’ve been hard for you since I first met you?”
She shakes her head. “How often?”
“Every day. Every night. Every hour of every day and night. Every fucking moment.”
Her flush deepens. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m honest. You can check, if you like.”
“Check what?” Her eyes widen more, so much that I almost laugh. “No. Not touching that.”
“My cock won’t poke you. Not unless you ask nicely.”
“Oh, Gods…”
I lick my lips. Dammit, she makes my mouth water. Iwashonest with her. I have been horny and hard for her since I met her. I’d get glimpses of her body through the clothes, although she did her best to hide it, and together with that pretty face and that steely determination, oh fuck… I’ve wanted her more than any woman I’ve ever had.
But now… seeing her naked is a whole new level of excitement. A new treasure trove. A magical lake I want to dive into. A sweet I want to sink my teeth into. And the way she quivers and blushes and doubts herself is making me burn hotter. I have to physically restrain myself from touching her, curl my hands into tight fists to control the impulse.
I never thought I’d fall so hard for a girl who is so brave and believes herself so ugly, but the feeling has gone like an arrow through me, through my heart and my cock. I’m all in. All gone for her.
And then she shoots me a tiny smile that wraps around my lungs like a vise, squeezing. It’s a delicious pain. I can’t breathe, looking at her, and I don’t need air. I only need her, her smile, her gaze, her touch.
With delicate steps, she approaches the tub and climbs inside, leaving me standing there like a fucking idiot, my thoughts grinding to a halt.
What am I doing? This is messing with my mind. I’ll never get the image of her out of my head for as long as I fucking live. Keeping my hands to myself is such a struggle. She’s a challenge to my sanity.
I’m here to lead her to her husband, to protect her from the wild animals, her enemies, and her family—but who will protect her from me?
As for me, I’m a lost cause already.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
ROSAMUND
I don’t know what has come over me. A strange rebellion, an immodest liberation of my mind, and subsequently, the body wrapped around my soul.
Ever since the wolf attack, I’ve treated my body as a necessary evil. A scarred, painful thing that can be harmed and destroyed. I found solace in the works of philosophers—the few that my home contained—who claimed that the mind, the soul, is what matters, what cannot be broken and cut open.
But now, my body seems to be waking up, asking for amends, demanding consideration. Demanding justice, of sorts. Meeting Valen, having his hot gaze on me, his compliments, and the raw desire evident in every line of his body, has made me wonder if my body isn’t worthless, after all. If it deserves to be loved as much as my spirit.
If I should learn to love it more, too, see what he sees. Not just for Valen. For anyone looking at it.
For myself.
His gaze follows me as I climb into the tub and lower myself into the hot water. It’s bliss, the heat instantly seeping into my flesh and bones, but all my attention is on him.
He’s standing there, watching me, his hand unashamedly fondling his crotch through his underpants as he watches me. Gods, he’s beautiful, but right now all I can see is his expression, the tension in his stance, the way his lips peel back, and his tongue wets his lips.
Desire. He wants me.
I don’t have a mirror here, but the look in his amber eyes might as well be a reflection, and if I accept that… then I’m a beautiful, desirable woman. Nobody can look at you as if they want to have you for dessert and not make you feel good about your appearance.
He does that to me. He makes me feel beautiful. Makes me believe it. And let’s face it, a man’s body can’t really lie.
Some men may get excited over violence and fear. Not Valen. I’ve never seen him crave violence. Never seen him enjoy my fear.
