I purse my lips. He sounds honest, and even looks honest, but it’s impossible to believe.
“Then how come you’re so good at it?”
He smirks. “Good at what?”
My face starts heating. I slap his shoulder. “Don’t tease me.”
Sitting up on the bed, I rest my back against the headboard. “Tell me honestly. No bullshit.”
“I’ve read and imagined,” he says, leaning back beside me. The headboard creaks when his shoulders meet it.
I take his hand and examine the back of it. There’s no injury. My thumb traces the ridges of his hard knuckles. “So, you’re saying without any experience, you’re that good at kissing, and all the other kinds of kissing?”
I shift and straddle him, my thighs tightening around his sides. The growing hardness beneath my ass brings the she-wolf in me back to life.
I press my palms against his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex beneath his T-shirt. “I’ve also read a lot about these things, but I can’t believe I’m as good as you are. And what about imagination?”
He tilts his head, watching me with that look that always makes me want to undress him. I mean, that used to make me want to go closer to him. Everything in my head has become lustified. Blame the she-wolf who is still in the heat of her first orgasm.
“I’ve read along with you,” he says, “although a lot less than what you’ve read, but more than enough.”
What the fuck. He has read my smut books with me. Has he hacked my phone and Kindle as well? Before I can recover from the shock of his first sentence, he drops the second one, and that one right into my ear, so that it echoes there forever.
“And I’ve imagined fucking you, eating you, kissing you, every day for the last three years.”
My breath sticks in my throat. Everything fades, leaving only his breath on my neck, and then his lips. I tilt my head back, offering him more. My fists clutch at his T-shirt. It feels like everything inside me has turned to liquid, drenching my panties.
“Zoan,” I call his name shakily.
“Hmm,” he hums, moving his lips along my throat.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
“No, Dove,” he says softly, pulling away from my neck.
I force my eyes open and look at him.
“Why?”
He caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “I can’t take more than what I’ve already taken from you.”
“You’re not taking anything.” I frown.
“I am,” he says quietly. “I feed the emptiness inside me using your heart and your body, Dove. I should keep you away from me, but I’m so selfish.”
“You don’t have to keep me away from you, Zoan.” I blink rapidly to clear the blur in my vision. I’m so tired of this.
He catches the tear with his thumb before it can touch my cheek.
chapter 29
Zloban
Watching her cry is the worst punishment anyone could ever give me. It tears at my soul—my dead soul that only comes to life when she is close.
“Will you really be happy when I marry Roxion?” she asks in a shaking voice.
“I will die the day you marry him, Dove.” I voice the truth for the first time.
