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He should’ve listened to his own advice and taken a moment to breathe. To give himself a moment to reset before jumping head first into what was absolutely a terrible idea.
Not for Flora. She’d enjoy every minute of it.
For him, though, it would mean walking into what would likely be the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experience. Not only that, but it would be a constant struggle against the monsters that made him. They wanted Flora for themselves. His gums ached, and his wolf paced. They had their own plans and Draven would have to be the barrier between them and Flora. Which he’d do gladly, because she deserved the gift of her humanity.
One he’d never know.
He carried her through the basement apartment, and into the attached bedroom. It wasn’t anything fancy, a king-size bed with night tables on either side and a dresser. He only kept it furnished for guests of the pack or if one his enforcers was too drunk to stumble their way home and needed a place to crash for the night.
He set Flora down by the foot of the bed and walked over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. When he returned, she looked up at him, and he could practically see the questions swirling around in her pretty little head. But that wasn’t all he saw. There was excitement behind her crystal blue eyes.
Goddess, he was so screwed.
“Strip.” His voice was low, guttural and laced with warning.
“Excuse me?” Her mouth hung open in shock, and Draven struggled to keep his face even.
“You can’t take care of the problem with all those layers on. So strip.”
Gone was the bold Flora who’d asked him to fuck her and in her place was the shy princess he’d pegged her for. It stroked his hero complex, and he was pleased to see at least part of her was the damsel in need of saving.
“I’ve never done any of this before,” she whispered. “And…”
“I know, and your innocence is fucking breathtaking.”
But taking it was just as delicious.
Flora sucked in a sharp breath, his honesty spurring her confidence. Her eyes bore a hole right into his very essence as she reached down and bunched the fabric of her dress in her fists. Slowly, too slowly for his liking, she pulled the stretchy fabric up her body, revealing inch after inch of her flawless curves and the lacy purple panties that teased him earlier, her arousal still painted on the front.
It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to cement his feet where he stood and not tear the gods-damned dress from her body.
She remained silent, and all Draven could hear was the beating of his own heart in his ears, creating a sultry beat to her movements.
She wiggled the fabric past her breasts, revealing a matching purple lace bra that left very little to the imagination. Draven sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her pebbled nipples. His gums throbbed, and his wolf growled, the two parts of him warring equally against his rigid stance. They itched to ravage her. To claim her body and taste her essence.
But she wasn’t his.
This was just a moment in time. They were meeting here, now, to give each other what they needed most. He needed the stone and she needed to find who she was.
His eyes zeroed in on where the stone hung between her perfect breasts. He needed to focus on that. Flora was part of the mission, not an endgame.
With a shy smirk that rivaled his own, Flora shimmied free of the dress and dropped it to the floor, a puddle of fabric at her feet. Draven didn’t even try to contain the rumble in his chest. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and he had to ball his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out and pulling her to him. He wanted to take his time, get lost in every single one of her curves, and spend hours learning how to pleasure her.
He tipped his head back to take a deep breath, and when his gaze traveled back down her body, he froze, and in an instant, his lust turned to anger.
Between two of her ribs there was a thick line several inches long, so white italmostblended in with her skin. If not for the ragged edges that gave it away for what it was, he would have missed it entirely.
A growl tore through him.
“Who did that to you? Was it my cousin? My brother?” He’d rip them to shreds if they hurt her. She was his to protect. A scar like that didn’t come from falling or running into the corner of a table. A scar like that came from a knife. He’d given enough of them to know.
“No, it wasn’t them.” She chewed her lip and brushed a fingertip over the thin line. “This was before my time at the castle.”
His eyes widened. “You were five.”
“Let the ghosts of my past haunt us tomorrow. Right now, I want what you have planned for me.”
His gaze narrowed, and he warred within himself, pulled back and forth between the need for answers and the need to give her exactly what she’d asked for. He studied her for several seconds, not daring to move so much as an inch. Someone had hurt her, enough to leave scars. The more he thought about it, the more of an issue it became for him and his wolf. The growly motherfucker paced in his chest with the need to tear into someone for hurting her. He should let it go. Her problems weren’t his.
