hands leave his pants to rest on my thighs. Swallowing hard, I stare at the undone button of his pants. There’s another one below that. If he snaps it open, I might be able to see some peen.
Averting my eyes, I wonder about the type of person I am. Would I normally get it on with a guy I just met? Or is the mate bond making me this way?
I want Damon so badly it hurts. At the same time, he makes me feel at peace. Just being around him gives me a sense of calm. He’s the reason I haven’t been absolutely terrified since I woke up on that dining table.
If I were to be separated from him, I’d probably be too scared to sleep.
So, out of character or not, I want to spend the night with him.
“Do you have a side you usually stick to?” I scoot back on the dark blue comforter. It’s made from the same silky material as my gown, and I can’t wait to be surrounded by it.
“To be honest, I’m kind of a bed hog,” Damon admits with a smirk. “I like the middle, but I’m more than willing to share it with you.”
“Here.” I wiggle to the far end and pat the wide-open space I’ve left him. “You’ll have enough room. No funny business, okay?”
Raising his hands, he gives me a look of pure innocence. “No spanky panky. I promise.”
“Spanky?” The word rolls around in my mind, but it doesn’t sound right. “Don’t you mean hanky?”
He shrugs before pushing his pants down, revealing snug-fitting black boxers. “Sure, whatever.”
Damon
Earlier, my humanism slipup wasn’t a mistake. Not this time. I knew I couldn’t follow through with a vow not to touch Whitley, so I didn’t make one.
I won’t violate her, but I can’t stay away either. As soon as her breathing evens out, I move across the mattress and meld myself to her backside.
The desire to keep her near is at an all-time high.
I’m already addicted to the way her body feels against mine. It’s intoxicating, the way we fit together. How warm she is. How her hair tickles my nose.
Her scent.
I like how she smells like herself and me. Underneath the aroma of my favorite soap is her sweetness. I yearn to taste her mouth.
I won’t. Not yet. In all honesty, I want her to beg for my kiss. No deals, no games. Just her lips surrendering to mine.
It’s funny, when I first saw Whitley in my father’s dream, I got the impression she was docile, but I sense a fire in her. Yes, she’s sweet and kind, but she gives as good as she gets. She doesn’t balk at my bargains. On the contrary, she seems to enjoy them.
Unable to help myself, I trail a hand over her hip. Her gown has ridden up, and the fabric is bunched around her thighs. It would be so easy to slip my fingers under it.
Temptation gets the best of me.
I curl my fingers and connect with smooth bare skin. Whitley sighs. It’s a happy sound. I can relate. Every time I touch her, euphoria hits my system like a drug.
I stiffen when I hear footsteps coming down the hall. Barely breathing, I wait for whoever it is to pass.
A soft knock on the door has me to my feet in less than two seconds. As I make my way across the room, I grab my machete from my belt on the floor. I’m not sure if I’m preparing for a threat or if I’m just angry at the intrusion, but the person on the other side of the door might very well meet my blade.
When I open it, I can already tell from the whiff of crisp night air and autumn leaves that it’s my cousin.
“Are you planning to run me through for simply paying you a visit?” Kirian asks, humor in his tone.
“I’m tempted.” I lower my weapon. “But in all seriousness, I can’t be too careful right now.”
“I know,” he intones, all teasing gone. “That’s what I came to talk about. I think we should leave to hunt the witches, sooner rather than later. Go after them before they can get to Whitley. They might be in the Shadowlands.”
I’m already shaking my head before he’s finished speaking. “You make a fine point, but here’s the issue—I’m not taking Whitley into that waste of a place. I’m also not willing to leave her in Cassia without me. Besides, she needs to recover.”
“She needs