Page 11 of Stalking His Mate

“What the hell is this thing?” he grunts out an exasperated huff as he runs his hands up under my skirt and over the shapeware.

It’s a tank top and shorts combo thing that shows off an hourglass figure that is a lie. His fingers spread and then pinch trying to get a grip on the slippery yet strong fabric. Then his hands are pushing the rest of my dress up and over my head, tossing it over his shoulder before his fingers curl around the low neckline. He lets out an animal growl that has my whole body freezing just before he rips it straight down the middle, shredding the thick spandex like tissue paper.

I’m so surprised at his sheer strength that I lie under him completely immobile while he stares down at my exposed body. His expression is unreadable, and a cold rush of embarrassment hits me like the cool air that rushes in to surround me.

As the shifter’s golden eyes make their way slowly up and down my body, my arms curl across my chest to try to hide some of my nakedness as all the ugly things Chad ever told me begin to echo inside my head.

Would it kill you to eat a salad?

I can see that gym membership I got you is going to good use.

If I would have known you were going to look like this, I never would have let you talk me into knocking you up.

I know exactly what he sees. Breasts that were once full and firm with high tipped nipples but are now deflated and droopy from nursing. A stomach that no matter how many sit-ups, carries a good portion of the extra weight I never lost after my pregnancy. And then there are the stretch marks. I wasn’t one of those lucky women who ended up with some light scaring or no stretch marks at all. I look like I’ve been clawed by a wild cat. The entirety of my stomach is wrinkled and scored. Even my belly button looks stretched out.

I think the fact Chad couldn’t accept my post pregnancy body was what finally ended our marriage. Believe me, there were many other things, but the constant put downs and his unreasonable expectations were more than I could bear in the end.

I turn my head away, unable to bear seeing the look of disgust that I know is coming. I got used to seeing that look plenty from Chad, but I know seeing it on this man’s face will hurt.

“Please,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut so I can’t see the revulsion that I imagine. “You don’t have to. I’ll transfer the money back to you as soon as the bank opens.”

The bed shifts under me and his grip is soft around my wrists. “No,” he states simply. Then he pulls my arms apart so he can see what I’m hiding.

I chance a peek through my lashes, bracing myself. To my shock it’s not disgust or horror looking back at me.

He looks… entranced.

Dark, hooded eyes roam over my exposed body. When his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip my pussy floods with a fluttery warmth. He reminds me of a predator like this, crouching over his prey. A gorgeous predator with the most beautiful tattoos inked into his side, that disappear into his pants. Branches twist up the entire length of his arm to a full moon that’s etched into his shoulder. The branches continue across his collar bone to twist up his neck. But my focus is on the realistic cougar that covers the entirety of his right pec. Nose scrunched; gleaming fangs bared. It’s done in all black except for a pair of golden eyes that seem to glow with their own light. Eyes that match his.

The man above me drags his gaze up to meet mine and the way his nostrils flare when he breathes me in, makes me almost moan.

“Oh, yeah. That’s what I’ve been waiting for,” he growls, as he drags another deep breath in through his nose and then finishes pulling the shapeware remnants from my body. Before I can push him away, he’s sliding down my body and his hands are between my legs, pulling me apart so his head and shoulders can fit between my thighs.

“Oh!” I yelp at the first long lick of his warm tongue through my seam. My hips lift and my eyes roll back with the second stroke of his tongue. By the third his arms are locked around my thighs and my hands are digging into the back of his head, pressing his face deeper.

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear how much you love this,” he pulls back just enough to chuckle before flicking his tongue across my sensitive clit that has me jumping. “Fuck, you’re so sensitive. Has it been a long time since anyone’s gone down on you?”

A long time? You could say that.

“Never.” I gasp as his tongue flutters maddeningly over my clit.

He stops suddenly and I whine as my hips lift, asking for more.

“Never?” He looks up from between my legs, surprise showing plainly on his face. “No one has ever worshipped this pretty pussy?”

“Never like this,” I gasp, then moan when he runs his thumb through my drenched folds before circling my needy hole.

“Well, I’m gonna have to show you what you’ve been missing,” his head disappears back between my thighs at the same time his thumb presses into me. “But first, I’m gonna work you up until your legs are shaking and you’re moaning my name.”

I laugh then, a short airy burst, when I look down at him again. “I guess you better tell me your name then.”

His head pops up again, full lips glossed with my arousal, and he rubs his cheek against the inside of my thigh like a cat, “It’s Dante.”

“Dante?” For some reason that name doesn’t fit what I imagined. “You don’t really look like how I envision a Dante.”

“Oh?” He smirks at me, turning to trace a row of kisses across my sensitive flesh. “What does a Dante look like?”

“I dunno?” The light little kisses and nips he’s trailing up and down the inside of my thigh are distracting. “Like, some dark-haired mafia type maybe?” Not at all like this long haired, golden skinned god with the eyes of a predator.

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