Page 77 of Wrongfully Magicked
Her other hand lightly touches my face, and I go lightheaded. I inhale sharply, idly wondering when I stopped breathing. My eyes snap open, only to find her face hovering only inches away from mine.
I must have been leaning toward her without even being aware of it.
She peers into my eyes as if searching for something, and I’m terrified to move even a fraction and break the spell she has cast over me.
“You really don’t feel any pain?” There is a touch of wonder in her voice, the tension slowly seeping out of her.
“Pain?” I scoff, my purr rattling even louder in my chest. My beast is barely contained, throwing itself at the cage of my body, desperate to get to our mate and claim her. My control fractures a little, and I lean forward until my erection presses against her, my voice turning into a growl. “I can feel your touch down to my soul, and it’s all I can do not to use my claws to strip you of your clothing, wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist, and thrust into you until you’re screaming my name.
“Then I’ll do it again and again until you admit that you’re mine and give me permission to sink my fangs into your delicate shoulder and claim you for everyone to see.” I’m panting by the time I finish, so out of my mind with lust that I don’t censor my words.
When her mouth drops open and she blinks her too wide eyes at me, my heart sinks.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I fucked up and ruined my one chance.
I’m not a virgin, but it’s been a long damn time since I’ve been close enough to touch a woman, much less do anything more. My family kept me secluded, not out of any love or concern, but because I was valuable. Male leopards are rare. We’re kept like pampered pets in gilded cages. I managed to escape before I could be forced into service as a breeder.
My whole childhood was spent learning how to service a woman and give them pleasure. Most men would be overjoyed at the task, but it only made me more reserved with the opposite sex.
I only managed to escape by sheer luck.
Unfortunately, my luck ran out quickly, my survival skills leaving something to be desired. I’m not weak, I’m more than capable of fighting, but my lack of people skills got me intotrouble. After a few months of precious freedom, surviving on my wits alone, I landed myself in a cage of a different sort.
I was to be sold to the highest bidder, either cut open for parts or milked for my seed.
Fun times.
Then Anita burst into my life and rescued me without expecting anything in return.
She gave me hope, and I fucked things up with my rusty flirting. I have years of training on bedding a woman, but I have absolutely no skills on how to win them over.
My beast whines in the back of my mind, my chest tightening until I wonder if I’m having a heart attack. I’m terrified of moving in fear of driving her even further away. When she steps back, a lump forms in my throat, and my heart sinks like a rock, the tiny flicker of hope in my soul snuffing out.
Unable to face her rejection, I close my eyes and turn away. My leopard cries in denial, claws slashing my insides to get my attention, demanding we fight.
My whole life has been one battle after another.
Maybe it was all practice to win her over, and my resolve to do whatever it takes to earn her love solidifies. Despite this minor setback, I’m not about to give her up without a fight.
I’ll just have to figure out another way to steal a piece of her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ANITA
My flames crackle to life at his sexy promise, lust filling my veins, and my body melts at his declaration, but instead of following through with his bold claim, he freezes. The tips of his fangs sink into his bottom lip, and he closes his eyes as if he’s afraid of my reaction.
His ears flick back and forth, torn between being tucked tightly against his head or turned forward to listen for my response. What charms me the most is that his tail slinks forward and curls possessively around my ankle, his beast already laying claim.
An ache fills my chest at the brittle way he holds himself, like he’s bracing for rejection. Despite being a beastling, there is something fragile about him. If I reject him, I fear he will close himself off and never recover.
While I’m not sure how this mating business works, the thought of abandoning him is abhorrent. Heat builds in my bones, my flames licking at my flesh, demanding that I lay my own claim.
