Rabid (Kingdom of Wolves #6) - Ivy Asher Page 0,61
I lob, watching as the accusation hits its mark and his brown eyes harden with insult.
“There was nothing unwilling about it,” he counters sharply, his eyes dropping slowly down my body before rising back up.
I feel his gaze like it’s his hands moving down my suddenly heated flesh before they rise back up, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I stifle a shiver and feel my pupils suddenly dilate with need.
I shoot him a glare as a knowing smile tilts one corner of his luscious lips up as though he’s replaying a visual of what we did together last night in the heart of the cave.
“Tell that to my shoulder,” I bite back. “I don’t recall agreeing to that before it happened,” I add, gesturing to the bite that’s on its way to becoming a prominent scar. “You have strict rules here about wolves taking things that don’t belong to them, so what’s the rule about mating someone without their permission?” I counter, and his eyes flash with savage anger.
He pushes off the wall and stalks toward me, his muscles tight and tense as though he’s ready for a fight. I can’t help but notice that he’s just as stunning in the light of day as he was by the light of the moon. He has a thicker shadow of stubble on his cheeks than the night before, and I have to force myself from wondering what it would feel like between my thighs.
“We’re still on that one, are we, Vicious?” he asks, a hint of menace underlying his tone. “I seem to recall you telling me to fuck you. I believe you asked me to make you scream until you and your wolf could see past the bloodlust. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you demand that I be hard and fast?” he asks me, closing the distance between us until the thin linen of his shirt tickles my nipples and his heat washes over me like warm steam on a cold day.
I want to back up, to create space between us, but my wolf is having none of it. She roots our legs to the ground, breathing him in greedily, trying to pull us under with the weight of his dominant pheromones. I growl at him, but it isn’t backed up by the ire of my wolf. It’s all me, and the pitiful sound seems to amuse him.
“I did all of those things,” I admit, hating the heat that I know is gleaming in my gaze. “But I’d love for you to point out where I begged you to claim me. Where I demanded that you mark me hard and fast while you made me scream?” My blood is starting to boil, my tone seething with it.
I can feel I’m close. Close to that side of me that shuns logic and instead lives for the fight, for the blood, for the kill. Yet just like before, this male seems to eat it up, like it’s his favorite dessert instead of a sign of a severely unhealthy wolf.
“You didn’t need to ask for those things, and I didn’t need to ask to take them. You were out running during a claiming hunt. That’s all the permission I need.”
His stare is a molten challenge, and I press into him even closer, outraged. “I’m not in your pack. I was trying to get away, not join in on some fucked up past time.”
His pupils dilate as his eyes drop to my lips, like he wants to lean in and lick up the heated vitriol flying out of my mouth. “Tell yourself whatever you want. Your wolf wasn’t trying to go anywhere except under me. She wanted my wolf to fuck her. Needed it as badly as you needed your...outlet.”
With a screech of anger, I lift my hands to push him away from me. I hate that he’s right, but I’m right too. I am not my wolf. I didn’t understand until it was too late, and I couldn’t grapple back control. Despite the hit I try to land, my angry palms never meet his chest. The force I fill my arms with is never released, because as fast as a snake bite, I’m shoved between him and the wood of the cabin behind me. He has my arms pinned behind my back with a punishing grip as a deep growl vibrates through me, moving from his chest into mine.
He leans in close, the stubble I was curious about a hair’s