Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I undulate against him, meeting each thrust as I climb higher, a new climax building inside me.
He thrusts, thrusts, thrusts…
And I yield. I submit.
I allow him to fuck me into oblivion.
How I adore oblivion. Oblivion, where thoughts are fleeting and only raw urges matter. Where the outside ceases to exist and our bodies take over.
Oblivion….
“Fuck, princess,” he grits out as he releases inside me, filling me, captivating me…mating with me.
Mates.
Fucking mates.
Except…
We’re not.
I close my eyes as the last spasm of my orgasm works its way from my pussy, through my veins, to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Rogan stays inside me, still pinning me against the wall of the hospital closet. And I stay, keeping my eyes closed, waiting. Simply waiting.
Waiting for him to pull out.
A few moments later, he does just that, sliding his lips across my neck with a groan.
I turn, face him.
God, he’s beautiful. His hair is plastered against his face with perspiration, and his green eyes flecked with gold are heavy lidded but still on fire.
He zips and snaps his jeans into place, glaring at me. “Why did you leave, princess? Why?”
“You know why, Rogan. In your heart, you know.”
He cocks his head. “What are you talking about? You said you were leaving to prove your innocence. That you didn’t carve out those vamps’ hearts. You scrambled out of the bunker and into battle. You could have been killed, princess.”
“You didn’t come after me, Rogan.”
“Of course I did.”
“No. You didn’t. Not at first, and that speaks volumes, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not making sense.” He glances at the cracked door. “We need to leave. Go back. Our people need us.”
“Your people need you, Rogan. They don’t need me.”
“You are me, Hannah. Don’t you get that? You are me.”
He stalks toward me, and my knees weaken.
It’s manufactured, Hannah. It’s not real.
But—oh, God—it feels real. It feels so fucking real.
Especially when his lips descend on mind again.
6
No drug can be more potent than Rogan’s blood, and as it surges through me, giving me the nutrients I require along with so much more, I surrender once more to my lover’s kiss.
My lover’s kiss.
For he is—or was—my lover.
But never was he my mate.
He wasn’t then, and he isn’t now, no matter how primal the feelings and urges we have for each other are.
How can I explain it to him when I’m so spellbound by him?
For our bodily reactions may be simulated, but that doesn’t make them any less real to me or to him.
His lips slide against mine, and his woodsy and spicy flavor, the flavor of his wolf, mingle with the dark metallic tinge of his blood still on my tongue, and the result is an inebriating tonic that I feel is necessary to my very being.
Simulated, yes. But oh, so real.
The door cracks open—
“Anyone in there?”
I push Rogan away from me and hastily pull up my pants. I put two fingers to my swollen lips, begging him not to say anything.
He doesn’t.
The door closes then, all the way this time.
“Princess…”
“I work here, Rogan. I’m on leave right now, but this is my place of employment. I can’t be fucking… Oh, what’s the use!”
“I have to go back,” he says.
“Then go. What’s stopping you?”
“You know very well what’s stopping me, princess. I can’t be away from you. I ache when you’re not near me, and I—”
“Stop.” I touch his firm lips with my fingers. “Just stop. I was gone for a while, Rogan. And you’ve only just now come for me. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me you’re mine, Hannah. Mine, and you always will be. No matter where you try to run, I will find you. I will always find you. We’re mates. Fated mates. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but—”
“That’s just it. Don’t you see? It doesn’t make sense. None of this. Fated mates are all but unheard of for wolves these days, but you find one? And one that’s not your kind?”
“It can happen.”
“Can it? Can it really?”
I don’t know how to explain it without showing him the records from my father, so that’s what I’ll do.
“You need to come with me.”
“Where?”
“To my place. I need to show—”
“Absolutely not,” he says. “We’re going back. My people need me. They need their alpha, and they need their queen.”
His choice of words isn’t lost on me. “Your people don’t have a queen, Rogan.”
“Enough talking!” He grabs my arm. “We’re going back, and we’re going back now.”
“How?”
“Like this,” he roars, and then his body shimmers, his clothes shredding as he shifts into wolf form. Bones snap, muscles tear, and I’m damned glad the door is closed now.
I don’t know what else to do.
I grab hold of him, hoping like hell my ability to control minds is strong enough to cloud the vision of an entire building, when—