Page 68 of Savoring Her Snake

“A few months.” He shrugs. “Money motivates.”

“I guess,” I mumble, looking around.

“Bane brought in our bags,” he says when my eyes focus on the luggage on the other side of the bed. “Are you hungry?”

“Sure.” I walk to him.

“You like it.” He straightens.

“I really do.” I kiss him lightly.

“Good.” His body relaxes and I realize how tense he was; it wasn’t just because of the visitors. “We need to leave the room.”

“Why?” He steps backward out of the door.

“I’ll fuck you if we don’t,” he grits out and turns swiftly. I can’t help but smirk, but follow him to the kitchen. “I had the kitchen stocked.” He opens the fridge, and I lean against the table.

“You said you don’t cook.” He takes off his coat as he contemplates the contents, throwing it behind him to a chair. I stare at the muscles of his back flexing. He rolls up his sleeves, and I’m distracted by his forearms.

“I don’t. Most of the meals are prepped.” He grabs a large casserole dish. “Breakfast dish.” My body heats as he turns to the stove and bends slightly to turn it on. I bite my lip, my gaze straying down his frame. I’ve seen him in a suit and pajama pants; I can’t decide what I like more. “Juliana,” he says, and I focus on his face. His hand is braced on the counter beside the stove, his body bent, and his head tilted toward me.

“Huh?”

“Do you want something, darling?” he whispers.

“Food?” I ask instead of tell.

“It’s not the food I’m smelling,” he drawls.

“Uh…” I’ll never get used to his sense of smell. His breathing escalates as he turns off the stove and slowly stands straight, moving toward me.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You,” I admit. Everything about him is alluring, but it’s the way he moves and the quiet confidence that attracts me the most.

“How?” He leans close, his nose brushing my cheek.

“However you want,” I say, and a growl vibrates over my skin.

“Are you sure?” He pushes on my stomach, urging me to sit on the wood.

“Yes,” I gulp. He is my world, and I am tired of holding back.

“Are you ready to be turned?”

“I—” My mind stalls.

“Not yet, then.” He pulls back. “I don’t have to change you to fuck you.” My legs are pushed open, and he steps between them. “What is your word?”

“Money.” His concern for my consent is another reason I trust him with my body and my heart.

“Say it if anything disturbs you in the slightest way.” He slides his hands under my jacket and pushes it over my shoulders and down my arms. “A human can’t get pregnant from a shifter until the mating bond is complete,” he reminds me. My jacket is thrown onto the chair behind me. “This is going to be fast; I want you too bad.” He tucks his fingers in the neck of my shirt. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” He yanks, and my shirt is split down the middle. “Heath,” I gasp.

“What do you call me?” he demands.

“Sir.” I lean forward and bite his lip. “Please, Sir, fuck me,” I whisper over his lips. His eyes swirl with danger.

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