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Would she speak to him today? He hardly knew, but he hoped like hell she would.
So sorry. Please forgive me.
He prayed he could repair the damage he’d done to their relationship last night with his stupid temper. Had felt guilty all through those dark and lonely hours. The fact he’d still tasted her on his lips was like the sweetest torture he had ever experienced. Damn, it almost drove him mad. He just felt so empty without her.
Crazy, right? Maybe. But he couldn’t help it. The Wyvern knew she was his. Beast and man wanted to claim her, to protect, possess, and just make her feel good all the time. So he did what he could. He guarded the cabin all night long.
It had been mostly quiet. No hide nor hair of any ghostly Demon had showed during his watch. A mama black bear strayed a little close to the cabin, but she’d left once he’d shown her his Wyvern.
He would never hurt a wild animal, but people and bears shouldn’t mix. That was a recipe for disaster. He’d used his own mythical animal to dissuade her from hanging around with her two adorable cubs.
After that, he’d had a rather stilted text conversation with his handler, Jennifer, who’d all but warned him off her friend. He didn’t mention the fact that Carolina was his mate and leaving her alone was the last thing he planned on doing.
Jasper figured Caro should hear it from him first, and not from the Owl. Regardless of how wise Ms. Dylluan proved to be repeatedly, he should be the one to tell his mate.
She was his. Destined by the universe to belong to Jasper. If there was one thing he knew, it was Fate would not be denied.
The television was on with the sound off, a little Christmas DVD playing to brighten the morning and get them in the holiday mood. Extra bacon sizzled in a frying pan, and the bowl of fruit salad was waiting on the table by the time he heard her shuffle down the hallway.
Jasper’s heart began to thud rapidly, and his pulse raced. He breathed in deep, savoring that warm vanilla scent of hers while allowing the tones of citrusy lemon to dance across his senses.
So damn tempting.Like my own personal vice.
He could still imagine the taste of her cream bursting on his tongue the night before, and just like that, instant boner. He adjusted himself in his pants, growling with the effort it took not to reach in and give himself some release.
But no. That would only make his condition worse. The Wyvern only wanted her, and Jas was in full agreement. He couldn’t wait to have her on his tongue again. And this time, nothing short of a fucking bomb dropping was going to stop him from driving his cock deep inside her sweet little pussy, coating her walls with his cum, and marking her with his scent at the very least.
He could not give her his bite until she understood and,hopefully, accepted him as her mate. Well, he could, theoretically, but he wouldn’t.
Prior to that, he could make love to her until all she could see, hear, taste, think, and desire was him.
If she let him—only if she let him.
Ever the optimist, Jasper turned to Carolina with a huge grin, taking in her cute little pajama shirt. It was nothing more than a v neck t-shirt with little red bows all over it. Her long, dark hair was in a braid over her shoulder, and her cheeks were still flush with sleep.
She looked positively adorable.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Jasper said, grinning even as she dead eyed him before sitting.
“Coffee,” she muttered, and he moved quickly to fill her a steaming mug of the good stuff he’d brought with him. Not that freeze dried crap Jennifer had stocked.
“Not a morning person, huh?”
Jas laughed when she didn’t speak and took cues from her on how she wanted her coffee fixed. A splash of milk and nothing else.
Good to know.
He handed her the steaming mug and grabbed the quiche out of the oven where he’d left it to stay warm. Next, he set bacon on a dish lined with paper towels to absorb the excess grease and placed it on the table along with jam and honey butter.
Jasper sat next to her, foregoing traditional expectations of sitting across the table, and practically hissed as his leg brushed against hers.
“What are you doing?”
“Having breakfast,” he replied, touching her arm with his as he handed her a fork and knife. He used every excuse he could to touch her. A finger on her wrist, his thigh against hers, a brush of his shoulder on hers when he leaned forward to get some juice.
“But why aren’t you sitting there?’ she asked and pointed.
“I didn’t want the table to separate us,” Jasper told her, going for honesty.
