Page 14 of Stalking His Mate

“How am I not being real with you Amy?” I’m genuinely confused and getting a little pissed. “You are a sexy, desirable woman and you turn me the fuck on!” To prove my point, I point to my lap where I’m still hard as stone and my cum is seeping through the denim of my jeans.

Her mouth drops open but then she shakes her head and lifts her arms in exasperation. “Stop it! Dante, I’m a mom. I’m on the wrong side of thirty while you look like you could be a GQ model. I’m fat and I have a million stretch marks.”

I cant my head curiously to the side. I want to laugh. Fuck, I want to tell her that I’m on the wrong side of seventy—shifters age different than humans—but that’s an explanation for another day. First, I need to address her self-esteem issues.

“And you think these things make you undesirable?” I ask.

She meets my eyes for a brief moment before looking away again. I see so much pain in that short glimpse and have my answer.

Fucking, goddamn it! If I had more than this night with my woman, I’d bolt out of this room right now and go after the piece of shit who made her ever think these thoughts about herself. Instead, I’m just gonna have to prove to her that she’s wrong.

That she’s so wrong because everything about her is amazing!

10

AMY

Dante is looking at me like I just grew a second head.

He can’t be serious, thinking I’m that kind of sexy. Glancing down at my body, I try to see what he sees but it’s hard to get past the obvious flaws.

“Amy, look at me,” his voice is deep and hard as I try, I can’t disobey.

Forcing my chin up, I steel myself for the disappointment I’m certain that I’ll see shadowing his golden eyes. I prepare myself, anticipating the chastising comment that’s sure to come, like Chad would make, about how I could do this or that better.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” There is no hint of a lie in his expression or words as he drags his gaze up and down my exposed body with… reverence. “How do I make you realize that?”

I blink. I’ve been called many things, by many people in all my years, but beautiful has never been among them. My friends tell me I look “pretty,” sometimes. My mother tells me I’m “lovely”. But trinkets are pretty. Floral arrangements are lovely.

“Your body is beautiful, Amy,” his amber eyes are locked with mine, forcing me to listen. Holding me so I don’t shy away like I want to. “Your mind is beautiful, but the most beautiful part of all is your heart, and I can’t fucking wait until the day you let me into it.”

My jaw drops, along with my stomach, and I’m completely lost for words. No one—and I mean, no one—has ever said anything like that to me, and I have no idea how to react to it.

Dante inches closer, and when I don’t move or tell him to back off, he scoots closer still, until he’s kneeling right beside me. The heat from his body seeping into my skin.

“You think you’re fat?” he shakes his head, “I don’t see it. I see a strong, healthy woman. Not some waify little girl. You think being a mom is a turn off?” he snorts. “Couldn’t be further from the truth. You are a she-cat, raising your daughter to be just as strong and ferocious as you are.

“You think the marks on your body take from your beauty? Hell no, baby. Those are battle scars. Each mark is a badge, proving that you carried a life inside of you. All those things make you stronger now than you were before.”

His words are… poetic. They are beautiful, lifting my spirit in a way they’ve never been lifted, and I want to believe them so badly.

He reaches out to cup the side of my cheeks and the look he gives me tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His palm is large and warm, his skin is rough from work and I can’t help nuzzling my cheek into it.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says quietly, “You don’t have to believe me right now. Someday you will, though.”

A short, humorless laugh bursts out of me. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

He grins, and holy shit, if I thought he was gorgeous before, the way the wide smile lights up his whole face makes my heart break a little at how genuine and beautiful it is.

Where the hell did this guy come from, and how did he find me?

“Now, since we got that out of the way,” Dante lays back and his hands go to the closure of his pants. His fingers are long and elegant as they work the button and zip and I’m frozen watching as he pushes the denim down his narrow hips. “Come here, baby,” he says, kicking the jeans off the side of the bed and reaching for me, “we’re just gettin’ started.”

I should probably be scrambling for the other side, but my eyes are locked on what he’s just revealed. The tattoos that trail up his arm and down his ribs also curl down and around his side. Gnarled branches shooting down his thigh with spindly fingers reaching across his hip and curling around his inner thigh. The black and gray ink is stark against his bronzed skin.

I swallow when my eyes trail up to his hips and get a good look at the equipment he’s packing there. He’s long and thick, but not in a practical joke way. Despite coming not long ago, his cock is hard and curls up against his stomach. With a dark spongey head peaking out from the little turtleneck of his foreskin.

Perfectly.

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