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“I’m not on you, Liliana.” Why does he have to sound so damn smug? Like he’s proud of himself.
“How do you know my name?” I growl.
“The better question would be how wouldn’t I know your name.”
He’s a fucking psychopath. That’s the only explanation I can come up with. Threatening to kill me one second, then going down on me the next. He must think he’s funny, I can tell. How twisted can a person get? This is how they do things in his pack?
All the more reason for me to get away from him. Mark or no mark, bond or no bond, I’m not about to belong to him or anybody else. Pushing against him I use the opportunity to yank my leggings back up and move along the wall toward the door I was a second from stepping through before he caught up to me. Again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” In a flash, he’s on me, blocking my escape.
“I’m going back to my room. Alone, so I can clean myself up.” I don’t bother to hide my disdain for him as I throw his words back at him.
“Who says?” He has a hand on my waist that I know would turn into the iron band of his arm if I tried to push past him. With his other hand, he wipes his chin, and I realize my juices are coating it. I can smell myself on him, and light flickers in his eyes when he senses my realization. Like this is nothing but a fun little game for him. Is his life so boring that he gets off on making others miserable? Or maybe that’s his life goal?
“Pretty hot, isn’t it?” he whispers.
“What’s pretty hot?” I play dumb to his comment.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Smelling yourself on me.” He leans in a little, and the scent intensifies, along with the absolutely crazy impulse to taste myself. To brush my lips against his and dart my tongue out and swipe it over his lips. I’m repulsed at the idea but compelled, too, and the two reactions battle it out while I stare defiantly into his eyes.
“Maybe you think it is,” I mutter. “I don’t want anything to do with you, and I never did. Before or after you violated me back there.”
“We both know that’s not true, so why do you waste the effort of lying to me?” He glances over his shoulder, smirking when his eyes meet mine again. “What do you think they’d say if they knew how hard you just came?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“That’s not what you were thinking when I had my tongue inside your pussy.”
“Fuck off.” I don’t care what my wolf thinks. She’s obviously out of her mind. Leave it to me to end up with a mentally ill wolf. And to think, I wanted her to show up. “Get out of my way.”
All I want is to go to my room. Why won’t he let me go? I have to think without his presence screwing with my head. I need to figure out what he did and how to undo it because this is unsustainable.
More than anything, I need sleep and maybe a strong drink if I can get my hands on some alcohol.
“Who says I’m done with you?”
“Who asked?” I retort, and the slight narrowing of his eyes gives me hope. It’s possible to throw him off-balance. He deserves it for the way he’s thrown me off-kilter.
His growl raises the hair on the back of my neck. “I said, I’m not finished.”
“Too bad.” This time, I shove him away with both hands hard enough that he stumbles backward. Right. I need to remember I’m stronger now. There are definite benefits of having my wolf around. Even a full-grown future alpha like him isn’t so much of a challenge.
But he’s fast, too. So fast that before I know it, he takes me by the back of the neck, pressing his hand against the place where he sank his teeth into me. He winds my hair around his fingers and holds tight, then leans in until there’s nothing in the world but his face and our breath mingling between us.
“I’m finished with you when I say I am,” he growls. “And I’m not finished yet.” Suddenly, he bends, and before I know it, he’s throwing me over his shoulder like I don’t weigh an ounce, and I’m some dutiful woman who enjoys being manhandled and ordered around. A squeal of surprise escapes my lips.
“Careful,” he warns. “You don’t want to jeopardize the alliance our packs are building, do you?” I don’t say anything because what’s the point. “If your answer is no, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut.” As a punctuation, he slaps me on the ass like he’s testing me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood rather than scream—and oh, fuck, do I want to scream. I want to claw his eyes out and tell him what I think of him acting like such an asshole.
