Luca’s eyes rake down my body and—unlike me—he makes no attempt to hide that he is checking me out. And my treacherous body reacts instantly under his gaze.
“Have fun in there? It sure sounded like it,” he says with a smirk.
“Listening in while I shower? Creepy much,” I shoot back, determined to ignore the way he looks like he wants to eat me up. I walk past him to find my bags, where my clothes remain unpacked. Because I won’t be here long enough for that. Grabbing the first bag of clothes, I lift it to the kitchen counter because this towel does not allow for bending over when I can feel Luca’s gaze is on me.
The sooner I get out of here and reject Luca, the better for my mental health. If Ryan’s situation were any less precarious, there isno chance I would be in this position. I rummage through clothes, ignoring the way his heat crowds closer.
“Need help picking out your panties?”
“No, Luca,” I say with a heavy sigh. “I get that you think of me as an incompetent child, but I’m more than capable of dressing myself. Shocking, I know.”
He pushes against me, pinning my hips to the stone counter. His hard cock grinds into my ass, his arms caging me in. My pussy clenches, traitorous and needy.
“Does this feel like I see you as a child?” he growls. His voice is low, rough, predatory. His mouth hovers near my ear. “How about you drop the towel, and I show you exactly how I see you?”
My breathing comes in rapid breaths, and my pussy clenches around nothing. Of course, he’s managed to pin me in exactly the position I fantasized about him fucking me in while I brought myself to an orgasm this morning. Heat coils low in my belly. My body screamsyes, even though my brain screamsdon’t.Maybe I need to fuck him and get it out of my system. But then, no. That’s stupid. He’s my fated mate, damn it. Of course, it’ll be amazing.
“You’re a fucking goddess, Sofia. That’s how I see you.”
Fuck, this is not what I need to hear. The last thing I need is to let him bait me into sex and get me drunk on orgasms so he can get what he wants. Once we accept the bond, there’s no going back, no matter how badly he treats me or how much I know he doesn’t really want me.
“Luca,” I whisper.
He leans in, lips brushing my neck. I slam my elbow back into him, hard. He lets out a whoosh of air, and I pivot past him, taking my bag with me as I stalk into the bathroom. I turn back as I get to the door and glare at him. He’s doubled over, but I could swear it’s not anger in his fiery gaze. It’s something altogether more dangerous.
“You want to fuck, asshole? Try your own fist.”
With my parting advice delivered, I slam the door shut and let out a silent scream. He is infuriating. And way too fucking sexy. I’m going to murder him. Damn it, he’s turning me into a mess, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.
I start to pull on my clothes when I hear Luca knock on the door. “Just letting you know,” he says, voice wicked with amusement, “I’m keeping count.”
Of what? How many times I shoot him down? He’s more persistent than I thought. I’ll give him that. Curiosity wins out—as much as I’d like to tell him I’m surprised he knows how to count—and I ask him what he’s counting.
“How many times you act the brat. I’m going to enjoy punishing your sexy ass when you accept that we belong together. Hope you enjoy a good spanking. At the rate you’re going, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
I hear his footsteps retreat as I clutch the sink to stop my knees from giving out. My heart races and my pulse thunders in my throat. I’ve never been spanked before. Would I enjoy it? Judging by the wetness in my panties, the clenching in my pussy, and the want coiling in my lower belly, I definitely fucking would.
I emerge a few minutes later—wearing fresh panties—determined to ignore him, but the sight of my bags stops me cold. They’re no longer in the living area; they’re inside the door of his bedroom. I slept on the couch last night because I didn’t want to go snooping, but surely, he can’t think this will be a thing? That we’ll be sleeping together.
My stomach sinks. “Where’s the guest room?”
“There isn’t one,” he says casually, leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee in hand, like he’s been waiting for this. Dressed now in jeans and a tight henley shirt, his hair is a mess, but it works. It works way too fucking well.
I blink. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs, infuriatingly calm. “Got rid of the guest bed when I redecorated. It’s not like I’m going to be letting anyone sleep over anymore. One bed. Mine. Ours.” His grin is wolfish, unapologetic.
My mouth drops open, and my blood boils. This was intentional. “What the fuck, Luca? You planned this.”
“Damn right I did.” His eyes glint silver as his wolf presses forward. “You’re mine. The sooner you accept that, the better.”
“In your dreams, Beta,” I grit out, turning on my heel and stomping over to my bags. “Anyway, the couch was plenty comfortable last night,” I mutter to myself, but he hears me.
“I know it is,” he says, his tone cold, and I grin to myself, surprised at how easy that was. Except then he stands behind me, crowding me against the wall. He grips my arms so that I can’t send any more wayward elbows his way.
“But my mate doesn’t sleep on the couch. You might be a stubborn brat, but your wolf and your body are more than happy to beallover me. But sure, keep fighting the inevitable. It’ll only make it even sweeter when you do give in to what we both know you want.”
“I don’t want you,” I say. It’s an obvious lie. He can smell how much I want to fuck him. Stupid hormones and mate bond magic.
