Page 95 of Mated
“Gods-damn it, woman. Stop moving.”
She snarls. “I can’t.”
With her body still tight around me, the barb can’t dislodge. And the only thing that has probably kept it from dropping the last few days is the haze of Caine’s magick.
But with Chuck’s impromptu visit and the fucking scent he was putting off, the beast wants to mark its territory.
Only one problem … Nisha isn’t mine to mark.
I smooth my hand into her thick hair and then grip her cheek. She stops writhing finally and looks at me. I try not to sag, but it’s a near fucking thing. “I have a barb and it is currently very happy to be inside you.”
Her jaw goes slack. “Like a domestic cat?”
I snort. “Think like a lion or yes, a panther. But bigger.”
The scalding flush of her cheeks brightens. “I noticed.”
“You’re too tight from your orgasm for me to pull out yet,” I tell her. “But just give it a minute, okay?”
“Why does it hurt?”
I stroke her cheek. “The barb has two purposes,” I say honestly. “One, to hold you in place—”
“Well that part works.”
My lips curve at her haughty tone. “The other is to remove any trace of another male’s seed from your body.” Her eyes widen. “And with your heat and Chuck’s wonderful appearance, my body is trying to mark you.”
She remains quiet, the rapid beat of her heart the only sound in the forest around us. “Mark me?”
I wince.
Oh great. Now she’s pissed.
“Yeah. To warn off other males.”
Her lips open and close. Then she slaps my shoulder hard enough that we stagger a bit.
“I’m sorry,” I snap, as my damn arm twinges. Better it than my face though.
She glowers at me. “You damn chauvinistic …cat,” she finally says. “I’m not a fucking wall for you to mark.”
I bare my teeth and lean down. “Do you think I don’t know that?” I demand, voice hardening. “I didn’t plan for this shit to fucking happen, believe me.”
Her arms cross and even half naked and pressed to a fucking tree, she is fierce. Hot.
She stares at me, her chest heaving and that flush of anger filling the smooth curve of her cheeks. Those sea green eyes pulse with gold light, and I know her beast is just below the surface. My hand tightens in her hair. She starts to shove at me but then her hands turn, scratching at my shirt and ripping the thin fabric.
With her anger, her body has loosened finally and I pull from her channel. She cries out. I drop her to her feet and wrench my ruined shirt overhead.
She stares at my chest and her scent spikes.
“Why do I still fucking want you?” she demands, her voice edged. Angry.
I slip my shoes off and step from my jeans. “Do you?” I say coldly. Her eyes glint. I grab my cock in my hand and pump. Her gaze drops and she makes a sound of need. My smile is all teeth. “Take off the shirt, Nisha.”
Though her motions are stiff, she pulls her tank off, baring her beautiful breasts to my hungry gaze.
Fuck.
