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“There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted.
“I don’t hate your kind. I’m just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I’m imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”
I hated this male. Hated him with every fiber of my being. But curse me, I wanted him just as bad. Grabbing his hair, I wound it tight around my fingers, clenching my hand into a fist. Kingfisher’s head rocked back, a low, rumbling groan issuing from his throat. I nipped and tugged at his bottom lip, sighing into his mouth, and the huge male went utterly still beneath me.
Kingfisher reached out and gently lifted my chin with his curled finger so that our eyes met. “It won’t be me hurting you,” he said softly.
I’d never been more grateful for company in my whole life. I stroked the fox, relieved that another living, breathing creature was willing to sit with me and perform this vigil. He was scared. Very scared, but he didn’t leave me again. “What am I gonna call you? If you’re gonna be hanging around, you need to have a name.”

