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He kisses an inch up, between the bite and my pussy.
And as I realize what this means, I nod—and I give him permission.
His hands come lower around my ass, lifting me—and his mouth, tinged red with my blood, clamps over my clit. He makes a noise low in his throat and his eyes flutter shut, his brow furrowed as his tongue slides from my opening up my slit.
An orgasm tears through me right away, and I desperately thrust against him. Javi groans and lifts me even closer to his mouth, like he can’t get enough of me. He sucks and kisses and tastes, and his tongue slips inside to devour where the desire pools at my core.
I grab fistfuls of his hair as he relentlessly tastes me, groaning and growling like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever had. His arms slide under my legs and he settles my knees on his shoulders, his mouth never releasing, his tongue and lips an endless source of pleasure. I come again right on the tail of my last orgasm, thrusting into his waiting kiss, wanting more, more, more…
“Fuck!”
He wrenches himself away with a curse, pushing off the bed and walking away as he tugs on his hair. I lie on the rumpled comforter with bleary eyes, my whole body on fire with need. My knees are so weak that I can barely get up, but I manage to push myself into a sitting position.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He rounds on me, his eyes blazing like liquid glass straight out of a forge. “Youare what’s wrong.”
I inhale sharply, then shut my mouth in a thin line. My next instinct is to cover myself up, which I do with shaking hands.
“How dare you?” I whisper.
His expression softens, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You…you kidnap me from a home I loved, you change your mind and claim me as your mate, you act like you care, and then when I let you in…you make me feel like I’m disgusting,” I say, the words rushing out. I’m crying now, and the wound on my leg throbs. It needs tending from my mate.I need my mate. “How dare you, Javi?”
Javi takes a step forward, then another—and then he drops to his knees beside the bed. His hands come around my calf and he moves to place an impossibly delicate kiss on my knee—a kiss that makes me blush all over.
“I’m sorry, Peach,” he says. “How could I possibly say you’re what’s wrong when you’re the only thing I’ve ever done that was right?”
The words hit me like a blow to the chest. I lose control of my breathing as I sob, the emotions pouring out of me. “You don’t get to say something nice now and take it back.”
“I don’t want to take it back,” he says. “I’m not…I don’t know how to do this. How to be kind, how to be good. You make me want to be good.”
Tears run down my cheeks. “It’s not my responsibility to make you good!”
“I know,” he groans. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. But I have to tell you—I’ve been pushing you away because I thought you didn’t want this, and that I…”
He stops, resting his cheek against my knee and closing his eyes. He inhales deeply, my scent doing something to him. His features smooth out, finding some internal peace as he draws me close.
“I’m angry at the world for pairing someone as sweet as you with a man like me,” he says. “I want a better life for you…but I can’t fucking resist you.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to say what we both know is true. I’ve known it since the wolfsbane wore off, maybe—dreaming about him that first night here, taking pleasure in his bite, feeling a deep, lasting comfort when we’re skin to skin. I’ve been wearing this t-shirt for a whole day and I never want to take it off because it hashis scenton it.
“This isn’t all an act. You’re myreal mate, Peach,” he says. “And it makes this whole situation more dangerous.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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PEACHES
I stare at Javi as he rests his forehead against my knee, his shoulders moving steadily with deep, centering breaths. I’ve seen him on the brink of almost blowing up so many times over the past few days that I recognize this look—but there’s something different about it, like he’s on the verge of weeping rather than rage. I reach a tentative hand out to touch him, and he sighs at the small contact.
“As much as I want you, I don’t deserve you,” Javi says.
I hate seeing him suffer like this when he’s so,sowrong. This whole time, I thought he didn’t like me at all…but he’s been keeping himself at a distance out of some mistaken righteousness. If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching my friends meet their mates, though, it’s that it isn’t ever neat and tidy. Love is messy.
And that’s how I feel about Javi.
