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A female can be both deadly and beautiful,
As if the universe itself were trying to cool his temper, snow began to fall.
He sprinted toward Meg, dodging floating tables and clearing furniture with a leap.
“But make no mistake, you are mine.”
He balled his fists and grinned inwardly at the pulse of pain from his right hand. He couldn’t wait to bite her back.
Maxu’s legs tensed. Run, little mate. Make me chase you.
Woof.
He took his time running his gaze down her body, not hiding the heat that invaded his blood as he took in the swells of her hips and breasts. Blessedly plumper than he’d guessed. Perfect.
I get angry and I’m possessive. I do things incorrectly and want more than I can have.
Meg was his. It wasn’t a claim of ownership, it was a fact. Simple as that. His body, heart, and mind were in agreement on this.
“Do I replay old fights in my head and torture myself over how I should have done them differently? I’m a woman. Of course I do.”
Meg concentrated on her glass, curling her toes to keep her reaction to him in check. How fucking dare he look so damn hot. It was unfair.
“What are you going to do? Throat-punch every guy who’s a dick to me?” “I’m not unreasonable, female.” His eyes narrowed at her and a stubborn frown darkened his features. “Please, let me know where you’d like me to punch him instead, and I’ll be sure to aim there next time.”
“I’m not hungry.” His expression remained stony. “You didn’t eat your food before.” So he had been watching her a minute ago. Just much more covertly than she’d watched him. “Being stalked from city to city makes me lose my appetite.” Maxu shrugged and pulled her plate toward him with a grin. “Well, stalking makes me rather hungry. We’re a perfect pair.”
“You two are like coconuts and pineapples.” With a lazy smile at his confusion, she’d added. “Once you get past those tough outer layers, you’re both delicious and even tastier together.”
I love this 🥥 🍍🖤
He was possessive and controlling, but not in the way she’d expected. He was on her side.
What a pair they made. Meg was afraid of having a controlling, distant relationship, which had pushed her to avoid them completely. And Maxu was afraid of rejection, which had pushed him to be cold and controlling to hide his insecurities. But she was beginning to see who he really was.
In her mind, sex had always been either depraved or wholesome. Shameful or virtuous. No in between. But this was both. It was dirty, tender, rough, and attentive all at once.
