"Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "You smell good."
Deepa froze, her heart hammering in her chest.
This wasn't right. This wasn't real.
She had to get away and throw herself off the nearest bridge.
"Stop squirming," he groaned, his voice thick with sleep.
Deepa clenched her fists, trying to pull free from his embrace, but he only held her tighter, his arm wrapping around her waist.
"Let me go," she growled.
At the sound of her voice, his eyes shot open, staring at her with a mixture of shock and horror.
Deepa took the opportunity to slam a fist into his chest. It didn't land as hard as she intended, but he still recoiled in pain, letting her escape his grasp.
"Fuck," he hissed. "What was that for?"
"You fucking bastard," she spat, wriggling out of his grasp. "You disgusting, vile, waste of oxygen."
He stared at her, his expression blank.
"You infected me," she hissed. "I was going to shoot you, but you…you used some sort of mind control on me!"
He blinked, his brow furrowed. "Mind control?" he drawled.
"Yes," Deepa snarled, glaring at him.
"Werewolves don't have mind control," he said slowly.
"Bullshit," she snapped. "Why else would I let a piece of shit like you fuck me?"
He sighed, looking away from her. "Well...maybe I don't like you either."
Something inside Deepa snapped. She raised her fist, intending to beat the shit out of him, but he grabbed her hand, wrapping his warm fingers around hers and looking straight into her eyes.
It felt like all the energy had been sucked from her the moment that they touched. The world around them seemed to fade away as a familiar heat ignited in her core. Deepa wanted to tear him to shreds, but she also wanted to feel his hands roam her body, his lips press against hers, his thick erection rubbing against her insides.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know," he replied, his voice equally soft.
Deepa couldn't tear her gaze away from his, her mind going blank as her body reacted to his presence.
She had never felt anything like it. It was as if he had cast some sort of spell over her. She couldn't think clearly, her mind was filled with thoughts of him, her body was burning with desire.
It took every ounce of will power to wrench her hand from his grip, and even then it was difficult.
"Stop it," she breathed.
"Stop what?" he asked.
"This... whatever the fuck you're doing."
"I'm not doing anything."
"Yes, you are! I can feel it!"
