“Do you know how many men I’ve fucked since coming to this town?” Soren asked, his voice mild. Gabe was going to be sick. He really didn’t want to know that number. Soren chuckled at his silence. “Zero,” he whispered into Gabe’s ear. “None. Not a one. Do you know why?” Gabe shook his head, or at least as much as Soren’s tight grip would allow. Soren’s pale eyes peered into his own. “You’re not ready to know, Highness. Suffice it to say, the beast inside me—the one driven to feed and to fuck—it’s a little fixated lately. On one single idiot in particular.”
