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Sighing, I padded back to the bed and crawled in beside him. He pulled me up against his body, spooning me and enveloping me with his warmth and strength. He crossed his thick forearms over my chest and shifted his hips slightly so that his cock rested between my thighs.
I let my body relax into his as I looked out the mullioned windows through half-closed lids. The dawn light was starting to break over the hills, casting long shadows from the hardy evergreens that grew in our harsh climate. But as the light grew brighter, the real consequence of what I had done in the heat of all that passion began to dawn on me, too.
There were things I had not considered in my so called plan.
Petre was certainly unpredictable. What if…
I turned my head so I could see his face a little better, and then whispered, “He’ll kill me if he finds out I’m not a virgin anymore.”
Vasile opened his eyes slowly, inhaling and clearing his throat. He focused on me, watching me carefully. I watched a series of emotions pass through his eyes. Fear, concern, acceptance… and finally hard, dark, ferocious determination.
“That motherfucker won’t lay a hand on you,” Vasile growled. “You have my word. Whatever it fucking takes, I will keep you safe.” He pulled me closer and nestled his cheek against mine.
His body was tense for a long while, and I could feel the pounding of his heart against my back. I shivered, not from cold but from wonder.
How far would he go to protect me?
How far was too far when it came to Vasile Greengallow?
CHAPTER 15
Vasile
Her words haunted my sleep. He’ll kill me…
I pulled her closer, sliding my hand down her body to pull her hips tighter against mine, to get that reassurance of flesh against flesh.
The truth was, I didn’t care what Petre thought of me, or what he intended to do to me for what we’d just done. In fact, if I was being honest with myself, I took a certain perverse pleasure in knowing that this would anger him.
Not hurt him. Because you would need a heart for that.
Anger him.
He wasn’t the sort of person that loved, so he wasn’t the sort of person that could feel loss. But he would be mad as a box of gunpowder in a furnace, and that was both a source of pleasure and a source of fear for me. Because when gunpowder explodes, there’s a very real chance that someone nearby is going to lose a limb.
Or worse.
I forced my eyes closed and inhaled her scent, that sweet fucking intoxicating scent. In her hair, all messy from sweat and fucking, I smelled her perfume, and also the leftover hint of cloves from her cigarettes.
Without even thinking it through, I found my hand sliding down between her thighs. I cupped her pussy in my palm, forcing myself to suppress a groan as I felt her wetness. But she was sound asleep in my arms, dead tired, and she let out a sexy little sleepy moan, then shook her head even in her state of hard fucked unconsciousness.
I smiled to myself. Sassy even as she slept. Fuck, I adored her.
Way more than I’d expected. It wasn’t just that I wanted her body; of fucking course I did. But I also wanted to see more of her fire and confidence; I loved how she gave as good as she got.
Fucking her was the ride of my life, and my cock hardened at the urge to do it again. And again. And again.
But I let her sleep. It was morning, later than I usually got up. It was tempting to stay there with her, all day and all night, the rest of the world be damned, but I knew that there would be blow-back for taking her virginity.
Preparing for that was important. Protecting her was my priority. Now, I thought, running my eyes over face, her cheeks, and lips, her curves, and always.
As I disentangled myself from her and covered her up in my bed, I drew the curtains to make sure the morning light didn’t wake her. Splashing my face with water from the tap, I dressed quietly, careful not to wake her with any rustle or step. As I dressed, I could tell that something inside me had changed. That was because of her, and I knew it.
When the lone wolf finds his mate, everything changes for him. For good. Knowing that, part of me thought that it might all be needless worry to even so much as think about Petre being angry.
There was no fucking way I’d let him marry her; there was not a goddamned chance in hell that anybody would ever take her from me. He could be as angry as he wanted; it wouldn’t change a goddamned thing.
