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Ohhhh.
“No.”
“And did you…” he trailed off.
He was afraid to ask the question.
From what he knew, he probably thought my venom was an aphrodisiac for everyone I bit.
“Have sex with any of them? No. They’re waiting for their mates, and my venom doesn’t affect any of them that way. Only you.”
He let out a slow breath of air.
I was pretty sure he was breathing like that out of relief.
“I did kiss one of them, though. If we’re clearing the air. Or he kissed me, I guess. It was Axel’s brother, though, so he’s a dick.”
A low snarl sounded in my ear. “Ethan?”
“That’s his name, yes.”
His fingers dug into my hips. “I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t. I kissed him back,” I said bluntly. “Morgan knows, and doesn’t care. So don’t flip out about it.”
“Morgan isn’t your mate.” His grip was still tight, and his erection still throbbing against my back.
My first instinct was to shoot back, “You won’t be either, in a few days.”
Instead, I said, “Do you seriously want me to apologize for kissing someone while I was dying? When I thought I only had a few weeks left to live?”
He let out a hissed breath. “No.”
“Then why are you asking?”
His lips landed on the side of my neck, and he sucked lightly.
I ignored my body’s reaction to him, waiting.
Finally, he released my throat with a soft popping noise. The hickey he’d probably left would fade quickly.
And he said, “I don’t want you seeing anyone else. Romantically, I mean.”
“For how long?” I asked him.
“Ever.”
I scowled at the shower’s wall. “So two days from now, when we’ve gone our separate ways and have no other plans to see each other ever again, you don’t want me seeing anyone else.” Since it wasn’t a question, I didn’t phrase it as one.
“That’s right.” His voice was a low growl.
“It’s a hard pass, and you know it. Either you want to be my mate, or you don’t. And regardless of your decision, I’m still a vampire. I still need to drink blood to survive. If you’re not interested, that’s your own decision. But at some point, I will take a partner so that I’m not constantly hanging out in bars, hoping to convince some sap to give me his wrist or let me climb up on his lap.”
He snarled against my throat, his fingers still digging into my skin painfully. “No.”
“Let go of me,” I growled back.
His grip on me eased up for a minute—and then one of his hands was between my thighs.
