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I remembered seeing him at the club. And although he hadn’t touched her, I saw him watching her. The very clear look of desire on his face pissed me off. I found myself moving closer, knowing I’d fucking kill him.
I’d rip his throat out, or at the very least gouge out his eyeballs.
The primitive, animal side of me was about to lunge for him when the front door swung open and my female stood on the other side, her arms wrapped around her waist as she looked up with a clearly surprised expression on her face at that fucker. Their voices were low, but I could hear them clear enough.
“Kayla, you left this on the backseat,” he said in a thickly Italian accented voice and handed the cell to her.
Kayla. At least I knew my mate’s name now.
I didn’t miss how their fingers brushed, something that motherfucker no doubt orchestrated.
I growled again, louder this time so the bastard heard. I wanted him to know danger was close. He turned his head and looked in my direction, but I knew he couldn’t see me. The shadows were too thick. And although I didn’t need to hide, not from anyone, not from any threat, I stayed where I was and didn’t make my presence known, because I didn’t want to scare my mate.
Of course, there was plenty of time for that later, when I took her away and she’d have no option but to realize she was mine forever.
He narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to see through the thick haze of shadows. I had my hands tightly curled into fists at my side, every single part of me wanting to rip him away from her. I didn’t want another male close to Kayla, didn’t want them to look at her, let alone talk to her.
And here was this bastard, who was inches from her, looking down into her beautiful face, smelling how sweet she was.
“Oh. Thank you. My mind was… elsewhere, I guess.” She held her cell up and gave him a smile. “Thanks again.” Her voice was soft, low.
I wasn’t surprised by how damn possessive I was, how intensely jealous I felt. This was normal for a mated male, but with me… with me it was so fucking strong I was drowning in it. I didn’t do anything in my life fucking half-assed.
I was brutal and savage, vicious in all things, and so of course when it came to my female, I would no doubt be an unbearable, overprotective prick. She’d hate it; I was sure. She’d see me as a fucking caveman, because the very thought of her even in the same room as the opposite sex had murderous jealousy moving through me.
Thankfully for the fucker, he’d keep his life tonight, because he turned and headed back to the car. He’d get to live, but I sneered when he stopped before climbing into his car and looked over at the now closed front door.
He coveted what was mine, and that I wouldn’t stand for. If he was smart, he’d stay away. I hoped he wouldn’t though, because that meant I’d get to satisfy the bloodlust coursing through me at the very thought of protecting my female.
I stood still as I watched him climb back into the car and leave the property, and only when his taillights vanished in the distance did I move back to Kayla’s bedroom window.
The bathroom door was now closed, light billowing out from the bottom crack. And I just stood there, staring at that door, waiting to lay eyes on her again.
It didn’t take her long before she was opening up the door again and shutting off the bathroom light, the steam from her shower coming out like a cloud surrounding her. She looked like an angel… an angel now forever linked to the devil himself.
I saw her clearly as she moved through the darkened room and slipped into bed, her hair damp, woven into a braid that hung over one shoulder. If I’d been a decent male, an honorable one, I would have left, figured out how to woo her, show her what a good and caring mate I was, ease her into this gently.
But I wasn’t any of those things. And so I stood there and waited until I was confident she was asleep, and then I moved toward the opposite side of the house, broke in easily enough, and slipped inside.
I stood there a moment just taking in the sights and smells of my mate’s home. This was her dwelling, and it was saturated with the sweet aroma of her. My cock gave another mighty jerk, and I growled in annoyance as I reached down and adjusted myself so the fucking length wasn’t tenting my slacks anymore and making walking unbearable.
I could have found her without eyesight or sense of smell. I could have found her without any of my senses and with her in the center of a million people. We were forever connected, and I’d never let her go.
I made my way into her house, letting my fingers run along the counters, along the smooth, slightly textured wallpaper as I walked down her hallway before stopping at her partially open bedroom door. I placed my hand flat on the wood, pushing it inward. It gave a light creak, but I wasn’t worried about her knowing I was here.
In fact, hearing her startled gasp would have had my cock jerking in pleasure.
I stood there unmoving, the room dark, a little bit of the moonlight shining through the window. And I couldn’t tear my gaze off her as she lay in the center of the bed, a small form under a cream ruffled comforter.
I was unhinged… even more so than I normally felt. I gritted my teeth at the uncomfortable sensation, because this sense that I had no control wasn’t something I was familiar with. It scraped at my skin like a wire brush, slowly tearing at my flesh layer by layer.
It fucking grated on my damn nerves, but at the same time I’d never felt anything so consuming before. I’d never experienced anything that made me feel… alive.
I was moving toward my mate before I knew what I was doing, and when I stood over her, my body made a looming shadow across the mattress. I inhaled deeply and held in my groan of satisfaction at her scent. I was a greedy fucker and reached out to run my finger along the slight swell of her alabaster cheek. Her skin was like silk and smelled even better, sweeter… intoxicating.
My cock jerked, the bastard reminding me over and over again that it was a lead pipe between my thighs. I was sick for letting my gaze lower to her chest, where the comforter didn’t conceal the swells of her breasts that were the perfect fucking size underneath her sheer camisole. Her nipples were hard, the outline of her areolae clearly visible. Fuck. She shifted slightly on the bed so she was now fully on her back. The movement had her shirt tightening around her upper body so much that her breasts now strained against her clothing.
Gods.
