Page 30 of Pack Kasen: Part 3
“What makes you think something is wrong?”
“You’re down here instead of sleeping.”
I hesitate, hoping I’m not making a mistake by bringing this up. “I was thinking.”
“About me?”
“About the enforcer meeting.” I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
During dinner, where I sat with my parents in the dining room, I was conscious that Aren was watching me. I know he wanted me to sit with him, but he didn’t bulldoze his way to my side, though I kept expecting him to say something he hadn’t said in the meeting.
When I headed up to the bedroom, brushed my teeth, got ready for bed, and crawled under the cool sheets, I was still thinking about the thing Aren had not said.
“You didn’t suggest biting me,” I say.
I turn to find him studying the water with so much intensity that it’s clear he’s only looking at it to avoid looking at me. “Why would I do that?”
“Despite your mistake in thinking I was a feral, you’re not stupid. If you bit me, then Cristofer couldn’t. Because I’d be yours.”
“You’re mine already.”
“The bite would make it permanent.”
I’d expected him to suggest it, maybe saying he would do it to keep me safe. But he hadn’t suggested it, and as the day progressed, I got the sense that he wasn’t going to.
Now I’ve brought it up again, and hestillisn’t suggesting what has to, even in my mind, seem like a good way to get Cristofer to abandon his plans to abduct me.
But Aren is breathing harder than he was a second ago, and when he turns to look at me, his expression is indecipherable. “Doyou want me to bite you?”
My turn for avoidance.
I stare at the creek, my belly tightening in what I tell myself is fear, but it feels an awful lot like anticipation. “I had a dream before.”
The tension between us crackles, a living, breathing thing that whispers across my skin.
“What happened in this dream?” he asks.
I shouldn’t tell him.
That isnotthe reason I came downstairs to talk to him.
And yet my mouth opens and words fall out.
“You bit me. We were…” I swallow hard, the memory of silken sheets, his hard body pinning mine to the bed, and his cock thrusting inside me overwhelming me.
He bit me, and it was the most intensely erotic thing anyone had ever done to me. I clawed the bed and his back when I orgasmed from how good it was.
It was like throwing a match into gasoline. He put me on my hands and knees, slammed my wrists to the bed, and he fucked me with a fury that exploded my brain.
I haveneverbeen so gutted to open my eyes and realize it was a dream. Like a fool, I’d tried to fall back into it, but I couldn’t.
I’d lain there like a sex-crazed idiot with my eyes tightly squeezed shut, my heart racing, desperately willing myself into a dream that’d set my body on fire.
“Kitty cat?” His voice is husky. “What was I doing to you in this dream?”
Before I ran away from Burning Wood—and him—he’d said he’d had a dream about me.
The dream was a sign that we were fated mates. It was the universe’s way of opening both our eyes to each other. He told me he was fucking me in his dream, and I want to ask how. Whatexactlywas he doing to me? Was his dream identical to mine?
