Page 8 of Wild Fated Mate
He tried to move, but nothing could hide his monster erection ready to break free.
“Oh hell, Sunshine,” he said.
4
Serena
I was transfixed. Did his giant cock just twitch? Was it growing?
“Why…” I trailed off, mesmerized. I had no sense of self-preservation and definitely no right to touch, but still, I watched my fingers stretch out to see if that thing was real.
His hand clamped on my wrist like a vise.
“I’m sorry, I—” My face flushed hot with embarrassment. Where was an alien abduction when you needed one?
He hated me, but somehow sported an urban-legend-worthy dick salute. Why?
Maybe he liked to argue. I didn’t. Confrontation wasn’t my thing, the last five minutes to the contrary.
“I don’t—you can’t stand the sight of me,” I whispered the last few words. Right?
The hand gripping my wrist loosened, but didn’t let me go.
“Does this look like I can’t stand you?”
“Maybe? Do you have a hate-kink or something?”
“What the hell even is that?”
“I don’t know. Like, you hate me, and that turns you on?” What other explanation could there be?
“Fuck.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and I took the opportunity to drink him in.
We’d never been this close. His massive chest inches from mine, his rugged jaw close enough to finally touch the beard he’d grown over the summer fire season, to stroke my finger along the scar that ran temple to jaw, to kiss...
The heat pumping off him, along with a spicy, musky scent that was all Gavin, was like a potent drug.
That had to explain the sudden pull in my chest that made the hurt and anger muzzy and distant, replacing that feeling with the need to touch him. Be touched by him.
The few points of contact between us weren’t enough. My skin tingled across my shoulder blades, as though an invisible force urged me closer, closer to the man I dreamed about.
Every cell in my body wanted more, almost like I was being sucked into his space.
The muscles in his neck and shoulders rippled under his skin, moved down his massive arms, the vibrations hitting my forearm like an electric shock.
I gasped, and he opened his eyes. This time the golden-cinnamon flecks filled his pupil and the fierce, raw emotion there held me as sure as his grip.
“Serena,” he rasped out. “This is what you do to me every time you enter a room. Your smile, when I hear your laugh, the second you’re around—fuck.”
My body grew hot with the words he was saying, but my brain did not compute. “You’re saying I turn you on?”
“You turn me on when I think about you, when someone mentions your name, when I’m sleeping, when I smell vanilla, or citrus?—”
“But—”
“I’ve had a hard on since the day I met you.”
“If you felt this way about me…” I swallowed, the idea of him walking around like this all the time made my breath catch and my pussy clench. “If you felt this way, why didn’t you say anything? Do anything about it?”
