Page 28 of Mated
To cover her in my scent. I want my shirt on her body. I want to hide those pert breasts that are visible to my hungry gaze under her tank top.
So isn’t it just my fucking luck that she seems to respond more to Caine than me?
And I could kill the demon for it. Really I could.
“So no demon, no being alone. Anything else?” she asks, jarring me from my focus on her perfect fucking body.
“Have you eaten?” I ask.
Her eyes drop, and she shakes her head. It’s a natural movement, not practiced. But instinctual. Like I admonished her without saying a word.
In the shifter world, the males are always dominant to the women. It’s not a sexiest thing. We just outweigh them. We’re stronger, bigger. The women may be the hunters of a pack, but the males are the protectors. And she is already learning that.
But I need her not to look at me like I’m the one to save her. The one to fix it all.
I can’t even take care of myself, let alone a newly bitten shifter.
“There will be a big meal later, but the food trucks have a lot of options to tide you over. We eat a lot,” I admit. Her lips twitch, but she still won’t look at me. “Nisha.” Her name is a command.
She snaps her head up, seafoam eyes wide and glowing softly.
“Your instincts are exceptional,” I breathe without thinking.
Her cheeks heat. “Thank you. I think.” Her damn bronze skin is made of sunlight, with gold highlights making her gleam every time the shade shifts with the breeze. Like a tiger in the reeds.
“Your grandfather was a shifter?”
She nods.
“Flavor?”
Something about my question makes her glance behind me with a grin. I flip Caine off behind my back. He cackles.
“Cat. Not sure what kind, though,” she admits, still smiling.
I lean closer and inhale.
Her smooth face scorches as she leans back. “What are you doing?” her voice is high.
“Smelling you. I thought that was obvious.”
She stares at me. “Why are you smelling me?”
“Besides the fact you smell fucking amazing?” Her eyes drop again, and I growl. It’s like her offering me her fucking throat. “Nisha.”
Her head raises. “How do you do that?” The question is soft now, barely inaudible.
“Do what?”
“Make me want to obey?” Her little hands tighten into fists. “I’m not subservient. Not submissive.”
My lips curve. “You can sense the alpha in me,” I say, voice lowering as I lean deeper into the new heat pouring from her. “All women respond to it. But shifter women …” I let my eyes glow and my hands flex at my side.
I feed my scent into the air, the one I normally have to hide. The mark of an Alpha.
Soft sighs pour from behind us in a wave.
Nisha’s knees buckle and I loop my arm around her waist, hauling her hot little body against mine. She’s scalding with the fever of her change. And softer than she looks. I brush a lock of hair behind her ear.
