Chapter 260
+8 Pearls
Under the silver wash of moonlight spilling in through the kitchen window, Carmen’s drunken tears glittered like dew.
She had found a face that fit every detail of her aesthetic, a presence that made her wolf perk up and her heart tighten in her chest—and yet, this male, her mate, Duke, seemed to have no interest in women.
What Carmen meant to say was, Why can’t you respond to a woman–why do you only prefer men?
But the liquor dulled her tongue and tangled her words. All she managed to repeat, over and over, was, “You can’t.”
Those two words hit Duke like silver to the gut.
For a male wolf, for an Beta–blooded man, it was a goad to his pride, a claw at his core.
Even with his legendary self–control, every repetition scraped at his patience until it snapped. His amber gaze darkened, the faint golden ring of his wolf flashing.
“You’ve never even tried,” he growled, voice low and edged, “so how exactly do
you know I can’t‘?”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” she muttered stubbornly, her tone thick with wine. “When it’s a woman, you just… can’t.”
“You saw-?” His lips curled in a humorless laugh, a dangerous sound. “You saw nothing, Carmen.”
Her lower lip trembled, her eyes glistening with wounded defiance. “You can’t… you just can’t…‘
Something inside Duke gave way with a deep, resonant crack, like a tree trunk splitting under a storm. His wolf pushed forward, close to the surface, the Mate Bond between them thrumming with tension.
F
“You want proof?” His voice dropped into a gravelly rumble, every syllable vibrating with dominance. “Then I’ll make sure you feel exactly how wrong you are.”
In one fluid motion, he hoisted her over his shoulder, ignoring her startled gasp. His strides were purposeful, heavy with intent, until he reached the bedroom. With little gentleness, he tossed her onto the mattress.
Her robe, already loosened from their earlier struggle, gaped open; the hem had ridden up to bare the pale, smooth length of her thighs. The air between them thickened with the scent of her–ripe with wine, tears, and the faint sweetness of arousal that called to his wolf like a beacon.
Duke’s eyes darkened further, the gold burning bright in the depths. He caged her beneath him, his voice a dangerous
murmur.
“Beg me, and I’ll let you go.”
But instead of yielding, Carmen looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to the vulnerable hollow of his throat. She sucked hard on the skin above his pounding pulse, marking him with a bruised crescent before pulling back, breathless.
The Bond snapped taut between them, heat surging through every nerve in his body. Duke’s control shattered.
“This,” he rasped, tearing the robe from her shoulders, “is what you wanted.”
He pinned her to the bed, breath fanning her cheek, his lips skimming down the curve of her jaw to her ear. His wolf’s low growl rumbled in his chest as he tasted her, each kiss deepening the pull of the Bond.
The night turned molten, their heartbeats pounding in time like war drums. The Mate Bond sang in both of them–wild, inexorable, primal
By the time sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the sheets in gold and shadow, Carmen’s body ached as though she’d been run through the grueling gauntlet of a pack challenge. Every muscle protested.
Worse, the deep, tender ache between her thighs made her hiss in a sharp breath.
Her head pounded, and when she finally managed to peel her eyes open, the first thing she saw was Duke’s sleeping face- sharp, elegant features softened in repose, lashes casting shadows across his cheekbones.
Chapter 260
Her mind lagged several seconds behind before panic hit.
This wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t her room.
+8 Pearls
The events of the night were a blur, but the soreness was evidence enough. Her gaze swept lower, catching on the bruises and bites marring his neck and chest–her work, every one of them. The wolf inside her stirred with satisfaction, recognizing its claim.
She swallowed hard and lifted the edge of the blanket, her face flaming as her eyes locked onto the unmistakable sign of what had transpired between them.
They’d mated.
Her mate.
Duke.
The Bond’s echo pulsed faintly at the edge of her consciousness, still warm from the night before.
Heart hammering, she moved slowly, praying not to wake him. Her clothes, torn and blood–specked, lay discarded. She grabbed his shirt–too big, smelling unmistakably of him–and slipped it over her head.
Without a sound, she slipped from the room.
Half an hour later, Duke stirred, the absence of her emptiness.
She was gone.
And the Mate Bond thrummed, restless and unfinished.
by his side pulling him instantly from sleep. His wolf bristled at the
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