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“How are you so fast?” Something akin to a snort comes from him before releasing me. Xadiel doesn’t answer. Instead, he tilts his head to the side in an appraising move. From head to toe, the sinful stare is a caress, and I take a step back out of instinct.
Just one. Then another.
I need the space to think and catch my breath, but my mate doesn’t like it.
His lip curls over razor-sharp canines. “Don’t move.”
“Or what?” I’m taunting him. A behavior so out of character for me. Of the two sisters, I’ve always been the calmer one. Less sassy. “You don’t want me, remember?”
Another retreating movement. More space between us, and yet I’m aware of the looming trees at my back, a few monstrous sequoias I didn’t notice my last time here, the largest of the trio is close enough that if I reach behind me, I’d touch the bark.
“Final warning, my witch.” I won’t deny that my entire body comes alive at the term of endearment. That wetness slips from where I’m throbbing and needy, something the sudden flaring of his nose and low grunt of approval tells me he’s aware of. “You know I do. That’s never been the problem, Isabella.”
“Then what…oh fuck!” His hand is around my throat before my next blink, tight and strong, lifting me off the ground and then pinning me with his body, pressing his thickness between my thighs. Thighs that part and with the nudge of his other hand, they wrap around his waist. My dress has ridden up, exposing my legs and the edge of my mound, but if he were to lean back, I have no doubt Xadiel would see it all: weakness, wetness, and my inability to say no to him.
The bark of the tree digs into my back, but the slight sting of pain only enhances my arousal. So does the pricks on my skin where the tips of his fangs now slide against my mouth; I couldn’t stop myself from shifting just enough to feel them.
Want more, though. My body screams for it.
“Denying you hurts more than you could possibly imagine.” His wolf is present. Growly and garbled, those words are his. He hurts, too. “Why can’t I stop myself from wanting you? Why is hating you such an uphill battle?”
Not that I’m given much time to ponder this because immediately after, his lips are on mine.
Dominant and all-consuming, Xadiel kisses me with the perfect combination of the two. He steals my first kiss like he did my heart, without remorse while those clawed fingers move from my neck to the back of my skull, pulling the red strands.
The sharp tug stings and my lips part, something he takes advantage of. Warm and soft, his tongue slips against my own and the sensation is addictive. So is his taste, purely him and seductive.
Tilting my head back to his liking, Xadiel purrs into my mouth. It vibrates through me from head to toe and then settles on my clit. The feeling is indescribable. So good.
“More. Please.”
That earns me a chuckle and a roll of his trouser-covered hips, sharp teeth digging into my bottom lip. Then he drags them back, piercing the flesh. Small and stinging, the cut bleeds and he laps at it—groans while gifting me another quick thrust, his thickness jerking right where I want him most.
I’m near tears. Delirious with yearning. Yet Xadiel pulls back, his hold still tight with those beautiful eyes on me. Gold with a deep onyx swirl. “You’re the sweetest treat, little moon. A surprise I need.”
“Then stop holding back.”
“I can’t.” Two words, and they hit me in the gut. As if punched.
“Please let me open your eyes.” Meek. My plea is honest and full of hurt.
“I’m sorry. Truly am.” Xadiel releases me then, making sure I’m steady before stepping back. The separation is like a lash across my skin. Breaks me. Bleeds me. “This is all I can give you.”
Swallowing back my emotions, I stand straight. My eyes shine with unshed tears, but they don’t fall. I refuse to let them. “We will meet three times, Xadiel Evergreen. Twice you’ve disappointed me—after the last, there will be no going back.”
“Isa—”
“I’ll remove you from my flesh. I iurare.”
I awake with a start the second that vow leaves my lips, my thigh throbbing—burning—stealing the very breath from my lungs just like it did a year ago. The first time I dreamed of him, my wolf. Yet today, the pain is just as blinding and I want to scream, but instead bite down on my bottom lip and pray to the gods that it ends.
I try to push the memory of our first kiss from my thoughts. It might not have been in person, but in the dream world, I was his. Felt his skin, the sharpness of his desire, and those lips on mine.
Panting breaths escape me and I lick my dry lips, still finding a trace of Xadiel on them.
A painful reminder. A glorious gift.
Having the ability to walk through dreams is something our mother taught us when young, to meet a loved one in the realm of slumber, an insurance in case we were ever taken or hurt. It doesn’t work with everyone; a strong bond or emotion must tie you together, and mine with the werewolf king wraps around me like a vice grip.
