Page 52 of The Rose and the Guardian

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“It’s a blend we use to clean ourselves,” I explain, kneeling beside the stream. “Herbal ash with oils from the forest. Let me help you wash your hair.”

My mate looks hesitant, moving back in the stream, only to return to where she was as she realizes that moving away gives me an even better view. “You don’t have to, Theron...”

I hold her gaze. “I want to.”

She furrows her brows, then slowly turns her back to me as she sinks farther into the water. I watch as she settles, her muscles easing under the warm stream. Every part of her is so unlike my own kind—her skin, smooth and flushed, her defined muscles that speak of her strength. My fingers itch with the need to reach, to feel her, to explore each and every part before my eyes.

I dip into the herbal paste and rub it between my paws to create foam. Leaning forward, I let my breath graze her exposed skin, and goose bumps rise along her shoulders and arms, her reaction as immediate as my own. Slowly, I bring my paws to her scalp, the sensation unfamiliar and electrifying as her silky strands slip between my claws. It’s so different from the thick texture of my own fur.

As I begin massaging, I watch every change in her expression, the way her brows unfurl and her eyes close in relief. Noël lets out a quiet moan as she leans back into my touch.What a sweet sound.

“This feels wonderful,” she says. Her soft, airy voice, her little moan... they do nothing to ease the strain of my arousal. My balls swell between my thighs, a deep ache building, pressing me to claim what’s mine.

“Theron?” Her voice melts me, soft and so tentative.

“Yes, my mate?” My claws glide slowly across her scalp, each movement is like a battle to maintain control even as my heart pounds like thunder.

She tilts her head, exposing her neck, the bare, vulnerable curve inviting me to sink my fangs deep while I pump into her. “You said only mates can scent each other.” She’s testing me, knowing the effect she has on me. She has to know. She has seen my leaking cock a thousand times already.

“I did.” Sliding my fingers from behind her ear, down along her neck, I feel every curve, every line, before moving back up. Her skin is impossibly smooth.

“Did you know I can sense your scent too?” She tilts her head back farther, her eyes meeting mine, bright and unguarded. This is dangerous.

“Oh really?” I grin, though my voice comes out rough.

Calm down.

“You smell like blue roses . . . mm-hmm . . . just like from my mother’s garden.”

Her words are followed by another soft moan, her breaths deepening. Each sound, each movement, tightens the tension in me until it’s unbearable.

“And what do you think of my scent?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper as I lean down, my breath warm against her ear.

“It makes me feel safe,” she breathes. “And...”

“What else?” I press, leaning closer, the tip of my nose grazing her temple as I move to the other side of her neck.

Her breath catches, and when she manages to respond, her voice is featherlight. “And...”

I catch the faintest hint of her arousal, and it hits me like a punch to my aching sac. Her scent is everywhere, seeping into every breath, making it impossible to think of anything but her. My cock throbs, pulsing so fiercely it’s torture.

“Noël.” My voice is rough. “I need to step out.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “Why?”

“Because,” I say, standing, forcing the words out as my gaze moves anywhere but her, “if I stay any longer, I won’t be able to control myself.”

She has no time to react before I move, crossing the room in a few strides. I throw open the door and step out before shutting it hard behind me, my claws piercing the wood as I grip it for stability. My body trembles. Her scent is maddening, filling mymind with sights of her—waiting, wanting. She is aroused. She feels ittoo.

The cool night air brushes my face, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my shaft, the beast roaring inside me, the urge to claim what’s mine. I grit my teeth, press back against the door, feel the pain. I have to wait. I need to. She’s there, but I can’t. Not yet.

“Theron?” One of the guards approaches. “Is everything... alright?”

I force myself to answer, though my breaths come out ragged. “Everything’s fine.”

He squints as he steps even closer. “You don’t look??—‍”

“Do NOT get near the house,” I snarl.