Now she knew what he thought of her. Nothing more than an animal who fully embraced the lust brought on by the moon and fucked until the sun came up. It wasn’t any wonder he was so suave in his attempt to get her into the sack. The unworthy piece of shit thought countless males had plowed the field long before him.
“I am a Lycae princess, you conceited whorehound,” she snapped, despising how disgusting his obvious surprise made her feel—how dirty. “My purity belongs to the alpha Lycae who will bring strength to the pack. It’s a gift beyond measure. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t understand something of that magnitude.”
He didn’t respond, remaining silent and unmoving behind her. Then she felt the return of his touch, soft and tender, as he explored her carefully. The lust she felt was still there, but it was smothered by her outrage. She tried to move away, but he prevented it by wrapping his arm around her thighs, forcing her to remain on her knees before him.
“Let go of me, leech,” she snarled, yanking against the ropes binding her hands, embracing the burning sting as sharp edges cut into her skin. “Any deal we had is off.”
The fingers stroking her vanished, and she felt Bridon’s body come over her. His larger frame trapped her like a cage. All she could see were his hands above her head while all she could feel was his body pressed along her back. A Lycae princess—trapped, dominated, defeated. She would have screamed if he hadn’t been able to hear the agony at confessing such a thing, of allowing her voice to give credence to the misery and hatred she felt.
“I insulted you. I apologize. What I said was an honest reaction to something I never dared to believe.” When she started to snap at him, he covered her mouth, continuing on in a soothing voice that made her want to howl in fury. “It is a known fact that Lycae go into a mating heat during the final phases preceding a full moon. I automatically assumed something I never should have. I’m telling you now that I regret what I said. It wasn’t intentional. But I’m also going to tell you that in light of the revelation, the deal between us is most definitely not off. In fact…” He moved closer, until his lips brushed her ear, causing a shiver to race down her spine. “It means that I’m going to enjoy this day much, much more.”
Bridon felt Willow quivering beneath him and couldn’t detect if desire or anger caused it. At the present moment, he had too much of his own guilt to deal with. He was with his Fated, and he had her tied up like a randy barmaid who enjoyed rough play. When she said she had former lovers, she’d lied. She wasn’t at all the woman he thought—rutting with the other random wolves as the full moon came upon the horizon each month. She was something far more special, far easier to break. He hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings. In truth, he hadn’t thought at all when he made the blank statement of fact.
Willow Miloradovic, the reincarnation of his Chosen and his Fated, was a maiden, untouched and pristine as the first winter snow. No other male had touched her, and no one would but him.
She was his alone.
Possessiveness slithered through him. He’d promised he wouldn’t claim her fully, but by the Fates, he planned to show her that his touch would be the only one that would bring her to ecstasy. Doing so wouldn’t be easy. She was already detaching from him, trying to shut down and fight the attraction Chosens felt for each other. Although he could see she still wanted release, the pain in her voice told him her pride wouldn’t stand for such treatment. She was a princess, revered above all others of her kind. If he was going to master her, it had to be equal grounding, on both their terms. Lucian might have been right about the need for aggressiveness, but Willow required a tenderness to go along with domination. He couldn’t simply take control; he had to prove he could be an
“I am a Lycae princess, you conceited whorehound,” she snapped, despising how disgusting his obvious surprise made her feel—how dirty. “My purity belongs to the alpha Lycae who will bring strength to the pack. It’s a gift beyond measure. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t understand something of that magnitude.”
He didn’t respond, remaining silent and unmoving behind her. Then she felt the return of his touch, soft and tender, as he explored her carefully. The lust she felt was still there, but it was smothered by her outrage. She tried to move away, but he prevented it by wrapping his arm around her thighs, forcing her to remain on her knees before him.
“Let go of me, leech,” she snarled, yanking against the ropes binding her hands, embracing the burning sting as sharp edges cut into her skin. “Any deal we had is off.”
The fingers stroking her vanished, and she felt Bridon’s body come over her. His larger frame trapped her like a cage. All she could see were his hands above her head while all she could feel was his body pressed along her back. A Lycae princess—trapped, dominated, defeated. She would have screamed if he hadn’t been able to hear the agony at confessing such a thing, of allowing her voice to give credence to the misery and hatred she felt.
“I insulted you. I apologize. What I said was an honest reaction to something I never dared to believe.” When she started to snap at him, he covered her mouth, continuing on in a soothing voice that made her want to howl in fury. “It is a known fact that Lycae go into a mating heat during the final phases preceding a full moon. I automatically assumed something I never should have. I’m telling you now that I regret what I said. It wasn’t intentional. But I’m also going to tell you that in light of the revelation, the deal between us is most definitely not off. In fact…” He moved closer, until his lips brushed her ear, causing a shiver to race down her spine. “It means that I’m going to enjoy this day much, much more.”
Bridon felt Willow quivering beneath him and couldn’t detect if desire or anger caused it. At the present moment, he had too much of his own guilt to deal with. He was with his Fated, and he had her tied up like a randy barmaid who enjoyed rough play. When she said she had former lovers, she’d lied. She wasn’t at all the woman he thought—rutting with the other random wolves as the full moon came upon the horizon each month. She was something far more special, far easier to break. He hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings. In truth, he hadn’t thought at all when he made the blank statement of fact.
Willow Miloradovic, the reincarnation of his Chosen and his Fated, was a maiden, untouched and pristine as the first winter snow. No other male had touched her, and no one would but him.
She was his alone.
Possessiveness slithered through him. He’d promised he wouldn’t claim her fully, but by the Fates, he planned to show her that his touch would be the only one that would bring her to ecstasy. Doing so wouldn’t be easy. She was already detaching from him, trying to shut down and fight the attraction Chosens felt for each other. Although he could see she still wanted release, the pain in her voice told him her pride wouldn’t stand for such treatment. She was a princess, revered above all others of her kind. If he was going to master her, it had to be equal grounding, on both their terms. Lucian might have been right about the need for aggressiveness, but Willow required a tenderness to go along with domination. He couldn’t simply take control; he had to prove he could be an
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