Page 32 of Betrayed Pregnant Mate

I pull away from the mirror, trying to decide if the makeup is too much, when the door to the apartment opens, and Percy comes up the steps.

When he sees me around the corner, he stops short, his eyes immediately darkening. We stand like that for a moment, frozen, still, like someone pressed pause on our movie. Then, Percy drops his bag on the ground and stalks toward me, determination in his face.

I turn to him, mouth open, when he dips down, meeting mine. His hands are everywhere on my hips, running over the velvet of the dress. I’m kissing him like I can inhale him, like I can drink him in and take him with me everywhere I go.

He’s kissing me like he wants to eat me alive.

His hands are on my hips, and he lifts me, placing me on the counter, his breath hot and fast on my collar. I let my head fall back, and he sucks, hard, on the tender skin of my neck.

I lift my hips so he can bunch the dress around them, and I am so grateful I haven’t put my fishnets on yet.

Like the incoming clouds of a thunderstorm, I can tell that this is it—this is Percy giving in, letting go. Doing what I want. Finally.

He lets out a quick, forceful breath when his fingers drop between my legs, feeling how wet I am. I let out a sound I’ve never made before, my hips tipping toward him greedily, hungrily. I grasp at his pants, desperately trying to get them out of the way, get to what I really want.

When he starts to pull away, I whimper at the loss of his touch, pulling him back toward me.

“Percy,” I pant, finally getting his cock in my hand. We are so close now. I don’t want anything to stop this. I can’t let anything stop it. I’ll come apart. “Please.”

He bucks forward, I guide him to my entrance, and when he slides inside me, it’s like my soul leaves my body for a moment. I’m watching this happen from the outside, Percy’s hands everywhere on me, settling on my hips, pulling me closer, closer.

I come immediately like the past few days have been the foreplay, the build-up. Percy holds out a few more minutes before letting go, his face buried in my collarbone, his breath moistening my skin.

It’s nothing like the sex we used to have—hours long, slow, sensual, with plenty of talking and laughing. This was needed. Desperation.

“Veronica,” he pants, raising his eyes to me. I stare back at him, trying to figure out if we can skip the party altogether, or if Linnea might kill me. “You’re okay,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over me. “How do you feel?”

“Like I want more,” I croak, “like this wasn’t enough.”

His eyes go practically black, but this time, he actually pulls himself away from me, shaking his head. He pulls his pants up, and I pout.

“I should not have done that,” he says, dimming some of the sparks flying around in my chest.

“We did that,” I counter, getting down onto my shaking legs. “It wasn’t just you.”

“Veronica, you could have died.”

“I knew I would be fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. I remember what Maisie said about shifters and humans, but I’ve always been strong. Built differently. I move close, reaching my hand out, but he shakes his head again.

“You don’t understand,” he says, his voice weak. “But I do, and what I did was unacceptable.” Quieter, he says, “Like always.”

“Percy!” I say, when he turns on his heel and hurries out of the apartment. I try to hurry after him, but my legs tumble around my underwear, and I stumble, hearing the door slam shut as I catch myself, heart thudding in my chest.

***

When I get to the town square, I’m relieved to see Linnea standing in the middle of several people, dressed as a pirate, holding a clipboard. She’s sending them in different directions. It seems like the party has just started; a few people in costume are wandering around, and the sun is still hanging low in the sky.

“Hey,” I say, breathless when I reach her. “Do you still need help with the preparations?”

“Oh, hey,” she says, tucking a pen behind her ear and raising her eyebrows at me, tilting her head slightly. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding too hard, my body practically shaking with unused energy. One time with Percy wasn’t enough; didn’t do anything but take the very edge off of the feeling. Plus, I do not know where he went, which worries me. “Why?”

“Girl,” Linnea laughs, her eyes flicking down and up again, like she only needs that to assess me. “You look positively high-strung.”

“Linnea,” someone says, and a woman I’ve never met before appears at her side. She’s conventionally gorgeous, with bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair. She looks like she’s recently returned from a vacation. “I was wondering where you want the test tube—oh, hi.”

“Hi,” I say, wishing Linnea would just give me a project and shove me at it. Standing here and talking to them feels almost more frustrating than one taste of something I wanted a lot more of. It’s more frustrating than getting tangled in my clothes as Percy darts out the front door.

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