lay back down with a heavy sigh. She was so damned aroused. Her body thrummed with desire and heat, and squeezing her thighs together did nothing to alleviate her discomfort—in fact, it only made that ache worse.
As she listened to the water running in the bathroom, she was tempted to slip her hand beneath the covers and quickly finger herself just to find some relief. All it would take was a few strokes on her clit…
But she knew that wouldn’t be enough. Any time she’d masturbated when the need struck her, it had always been so…unfulfilling. So hollow. So detached from what she’d truly craved—the romantic connection that made everything so much richer. Someone who…loved her.
More than once, she’d wondered if things would’ve been easier if she were more like those one-night-stand types of people, the ones who just enjoyed sex for the sake of sex.
But that just wasn’t her. She always got too emotionally invested. She didn’t want sex for the sake for sex, she wanted…someone.
Tabitha wanted Zevris.
If only he wasn’t keeping me prisoner and tied to his damn bed.
She grabbed the pillow and drew it over her face. “Ugh!”
It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before the shower turned off, and only a few more had passed when the bathroom door opened, but the need throbbing at Tabitha’s core had made it feel like a hundred years had passed.
She shifted the pillow aside to peek at Zevris. He was staring at her with an arched brow and a crooked smile. Unsurprisingly, he was still very much naked. At least it looked like his cock had finally softened—not that it was all that much smaller while flaccid.
As though sensing her thoughts, his shaft twitched and began to harden right before her eyes.
“Is there anything you want me to do for you, Tabitha?” he asked as he stepped to his dresser. His tail swished behind him. “Anything I might help you with?”
Tabitha knew exactly what his question implied, and the answer she longed to give resounded in her head.
Yes! Touch me!
Instead, she simply glared at him and kept her mouth shut.
He shrugged and opened the top drawer. “Very well.”
Zevris dressed himself with the nonchalance of someone who didn’t have an audience—or who didn’t care that he had an audience. Boxers, socks, a button-down shirt, and, after flattening his tail along his leg and curling its end around his calf, a pair of jeans that hugged his ass like they were molded just for him.
“Isn’t that uncomfortable? Keeping your tail in there like that?” she asked.
“No. But it isn’t really comfortable, either.” He walked to the bedroom door as he buckled his belt.
Tabitha’s brow furrowed, and she set the pillow aside, pulling herself up to sit as he reached for the doorknob. “Wait, where are you going?”
Zevris paused and glanced back at her. His eyes skimmed over her chest and back to her face, and his jaw muscles ticked. That tension she’d sensed in him so often again reasserted itself.
“I need to make sure Dexter didn’t poop on my floor,” he said finally, turning the knob and opening the door. “And my mate will need sustenance.”
“Zevris,” she said as he turned away and stepped through the doorway. “Zevris, wait!” She hurriedly moved toward him, only to be stopped short when the binding went taut on her wrist. “You can’t just leave me here!”
His only answer came in the form of the door closing behind him.
Tabitha growled, snatched up the pillow, and threw it at the door. “I am soooo going to kill him.”
Tabitha’s comment brought an amused smirk to Zevris’s lips, but it could not quell his rising desire. He very nearly pressed himself back against the bedroom door, very nearly raked his claws over the wood, very nearly tore open his pants and took his throbbing cock in hand again.
As though her warmth and beauty had not been alluring enough, as though the feel of her body against his had not been tempting enough, he’d awoken to Tabitha moaning softly in her sleep, rocking her hips in the throes of a dream. The scent of her arousal had been thick in the air; a trace of it still seemed to linger in his nose even after he’d showered and left the room.
He wasn’t sure how he’d kept himself still until she’d roused, wasn’t sure how he’d managed to pry himself away from her afterward, but he knew one thing with certainty—if he allowed himself to sway even a fraction