Page 38 of Broken Rejected Mate

“Gods,” she laughs, shaking her head. Right now, she’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her—cheeks flushed, dark hair tousled, wearing shorts and a tank top, looking hungry. Her long legs are exposed, her chest rising and falling quickly. “You really don’t get it, do you? Emin, I’m not worried about anyone but myself. I want to climb you like a fucking tree, do you get that?”

I blink, unable to swallow, and she goes on, stalking toward me, her eyes dark and focused.

“Here I am, fuckingfloodedwith lust,” she growls. “And here you are. Standing in front of me. And Iknow—I know what you feel like, Emin.” Her eyes flick downward, and just like that, I go from half-hard to fully there, my cock pressing painfully against my pants. When her eyes find mine again, she looks downright murderous. “I know how good it would feel to ride you. I know that it would make all thiswantinggo away, at least for a second.”

It takes every ounce of self-control in my body to stay still. To not react to the fact that Veva is thinking about riding me—fuck—I have to keep my feet right where they are. The moment I give into the urge to move, I’m going to touch her.

She’s so close.

And she smells so fucking good.

“No,” I manage, shaking my head, forcing myself not to think with my dick. Pushing away the insistent lust, I clear my throat, find Veva’s eyes again.

Alphas and omegas. It’s supposed to be irresistible, that pull. Especially to your mate.

And it’s damn near killing me not to touch her right now, but I gather up the pain, the empty, aching yearning, and shove it to the bottom of me.

“No,” I say again, shaking my head in jerky movements. “I know that’s not what you want, Veva. I swear to the gods, I won’t lay a single finger on you.”

“But you don’t knowanything, Emin,” she says, taking another step toward me, and she’s practically fucking panting. “Because Idowant you. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to want.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in heat,” I shake my head again, take a step backward.

“No,” she counters. “I’m saying that becauseyou’re my mate. And all those years ago—” she closes her eyes for a second, then opens them. “I thought you knew. When you turned me away. But you didn’t know. You’re not the man I thought you were.”

“It’s doesn’t matter, Veva. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with me.”

“That’s when I thought you would have turned away a woman pregnant with your child.” She tips her head up, meets my eyes, holds my gaze. “But you didn’t.”

“And I wouldn’t.” We’re closer now. I could reach out and touch her. I don’t. “But this isn’t what you want—”

“Emin,” she practically hums. “It is what I want. I trust you. I need…fuck, I need to be touched right now. And I trust you to do it.”

Our stand-off holds. If she touches me, I’ll cave. Her words ring through my head—I am what she wants.

But that’s not what she means—she just means she wants me to help ease some of this pain, some of this lust. Not that shewantsme. Not forever.

Not even after this heat.

Finally, it’s just one word from her mouth that finally brings down my walls.

Stepping forward, hovering her hand just above my chest, she whispers, “Please.”

Chapter 21 - Veva

Yes, yes, yes.

It’s the only word that chants through my head when Emin steps forward, slanting his lips to mine. It’s everything I remember, everything I’ve missed.

Even if he and I were a bit fumbling as teenagers, still trying to figure out and find out rhythm, our pleasure, one thing has always been true—Emin Argent is aphenomenalkisser.

As a teenager, it was the thing that made my heart melt most. More than the stolen glances at school, or the forbidden nature of it all. It was the way it felt to be in his arms, pressed to the wall, andkissedlike he had just come back from battle, and I was the only thing he could think about.

Emin kisses you like he needs you, like you’re pure oxygen, and he’s drifting outside the atmosphere.

In a second, he’s spun us around so I’m pinned against the wall. His hand slides behind my head, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck as he tips me back to get more leverage. To slide his tongue against mine, his movements like a practiced routine, his hands and lips coordinated. One hand on my hip, his thumb brushing up and under the hem of my shirt, sending shivers up and over my skin.

I feel goose bumps form, trailing after his touch, following him like they want more,more.

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