Page 28 of Little Mate
Moreover, the words I’ve said in the past about mates are all bitter pills to swallow.
My eyes travel from her fiery red strands to the expressive green eyes looking at me with heat and then lower, to her small button nose. I count the small smattering of freckles across the bridge there before taking in the plumpness of her soft-looking lips and the straight line of teeth embedded in the sweet flesh.
My mouth waters and my chest expands again, pulling that sweet scent of cherries with sweet vanilla cream into my dead lungs like an addict. Because I am one. My purr of satisfaction is proof enough.
A both humbling and lascivious sound.
Her scent is as appetizing as her blood.
Both sing to me. They demand that I move a little closer, and I do, my body slowly pushing hers back on the bed as I crawl over the supple curves I will worship for eternity.
Mine. She's all motherfucking mine.
My fangs descend and that content purr turns into a hungry hiss, a warning to the world of my intentions. This pretty girl has no idea that she’s just become the apex predator; she controls me.
“Theodore.” It’s a sigh. So sweet. I shudder above her, my hands immediately finding purchase atop the bed at each side of her head. I'm her personal cage: a prison she'll never escape. "You feel so good. Just feeling your skin close to mine is heaven."
"That's because I was created to one day worship you." Her thighs open and my hips punch forward; she's cradling me, and her heat causes my eyes to roll back. "To bring you pleasure."
I'm right there. Her softness sears me.
Looking down, I take in the way her dress exposes her. Her skin is on display, the supple curve of her thighs teasing me with the subtle clenching of the muscle there. Then, there's the hint of wetness coating her thighs, the heightened sweetness causing a deep, animalistic rumble to form in my chest. The sound makes her shiver, makes her upper body arch up and the pointed tip of her breast to rub against mine.
"Motherfuck," I growl at the feel of her. The hand to the right of her head moves down to her hip and grips it, my hold tight—a bit painful—but the way she moans low is proof she likes it. That my beautiful doll isn't breakable. Christ, I shake above her—my entire body pressing deeper into her, and I feel it, the lack of undergarments.
She's bare beneath the thin material. A dress that's tight, the long skirt molding to every inch of her while those forsaken slits at the sides destroy my senses.
Her mere essence alone breaks my free will.
I never knew—believed—how strong the bond one has with a mate could be.
I'm no longer living for myself, but for her.
Always her. Only her.
"Please."
One word. It destroys me.
From the very tip of her dainty toes to the fiery locks on top of her head, she's perfection.
My mate. Gabriella Moore.
You’ll know soon enough that fate is unavoidable. She will surprise you.
"He knew." It's a whisper that causes her brows to furrow, but before she can ask questions, I'm slanting my lips over hers. I’m taking her exhale into my lungs and groaning as the first pure taste of my pretty girl embeds itself into my DNA.
There's a kittenish sound from the back of her throat, and her fingers find purchase on my back, her nails gripping my shirt and pulling me closer. I let her, lowering my full weight, one she welcomes by wrapping those sinful legs around my hips.
They tighten while her lips part and then she's exhaling against me. Her breath is sweet. Pleasure rips through my chest at that, through every fucking limb, and I run my fangs across her bottom lip, creating the smallest cut.
A drop of blood pools on the pink flesh, calling my name, and I don’t hesitate to taste. One swipe of my tongue and she quivers, eyes rolling back before I dive in for more. Her taste is an explosion across all my senses; I’ve never been more of a beast than in that moment, and I take without pause.
It’s hard, fucking goes against my every instinct, but I retract my fangs and kiss her with every bit of the passion she ignites in me. The bond sizzles between us and every touch is a spark of electricity that runs through my dead heart, creating a low frequency through my veins. Her tongue meets mine shyly at first, just a small swipe that shows her inexperience, but that one touch renders me her slave.
I’m addicted. Want more.
The hand at her hip traverses up the side of her body, from ribcage to her perky tits, and I swipe my thumb across it. The plump flesh is soft yet firm, and the way she cries out at the simple touch is heady.