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Kylie doesn’t understand how deep my need for her goes. I try to slake it, using her body to satisfy that greed but it can never be enough. I stop breathing with one glance from her, my heart swells from one of her smiles.
I need her blood in me and my bloodline in her. Only then will the monster within finally calm. He’s whipping at me to hurry up.
Make her mine completely.
And I will, but I’m not her favorite right now and the notion stings.
I should’ve gone easier on her, but I wanted to show her that she can lean on me.
I’m untouchable which means that so is she.
I’m tempted to walk back up there and demand that she gets naked and waits for me in bed. An orgasm would probably make her feel better, and she loves to fuck whenever she’s petulant. Then her sex floods with a heat that feels hotter than my fires, and I let out a breath full of steam.
I should be branding her, instead of arguing.
A haze covers my eyes and I inhale. I try to not be frustrated with her, try to understand things from her perspective but my natural instinct is to do everything for her. I drag an agitated hand down my face, knowing that if I push, she won’t forgive me.
For her sake, I have to tame myself.
It doesn’t feel good when she pushes me away, and I just want to hold her again and feel that little body of hers melt into mine. I only feel at peace with my arms around her.
Everything fell into place when I met Kylie.
Finally, my world makes sense.
I didn’t foresee it, didn’t expect it and when I snatched her, I thought she was just a regular female. I was attracted to her, wanted to keep her around for a while and now my blood freezes at the thought of ever letting her go. I need to do something that will make her forget what just happened.
Think.
But all I can think of is mating with her, moving inside of her and my head thrashes from side to side. So far, I’ve never let the dragon out whenever I’ve been with Kylie but he does want out. He wants that bond between him and Kylie.
And once she lets me close again, I’ll let him have her.
9.
Kylie
I’m getting cold out on the balcony and I miss Craven. It feels better when he’s next to me.
Even when he’s silent, I know I have his support and the beast’s that backs him up.
Letting out a sigh, I rub my hands down my skin and a pit forms in my stomach. I practically yelled at my mate. It was rude and I wish I could take it back. I still see the expression on Craven’s face behind my eyes.
He felt pushed aside.
I made him feel as if I don’t need him and it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Thunder strikes down again and I grit my teeth. I bury my face in my hands, regretting I got into a fight with Craven. If he had been here, he would’ve comforted me before the first tear fell. Shrugging, I put my arms down when anger flares in my chest.
Anger I feel toward my dad, because he never accepted me the way Craven does.
With one last look at the horizon, I leave the balcony and step into Craven’s bedroom. Maybe, I should just call it a room since the bed looks like it’s been abused in a battle. The sheets are ripped, a bedpost is crooked and the wall has dents from the headboard.
My cheeks heat and I glance at Craven’s desk in the corner. That one looks abused as well, because he has mated with me on every single piece of furniture in here. Bending down, I pick up one of his notebooks off the floor. Craven sometimes writes poetry in the middle of the night but I’ve never read anything of his.
Skimming through some of his poems, I feel my breath hitch in my throat. He’s such a talented writer, musical almost and a couple of the verses are dedicated to me.
I pinch my lip, putting the notebook back when my body cries out for him. Running down the hallway, I race toward Craven, craving his touch like an addict and I burst into the cave.
