Page 23 of Chev's Mate

I’ve never concerned myself with my attire or the way I move. Nobody in the shifter realm has ever looked at me inappropriately, so there was no need. Everybody has a mate, and if my intimate parts are exposed every once in a blue moon, it doesn’t matter.

Being thrust into the public eye was a shock, and for a while, I was unequipped. People were sneaking photos of me, purposefully trying to get glimpses of my bare body. There was an interest in my mate and animal markings, and even more so in the skin that lives above them.

I was horrified, but Silas helped remove the images of my intimate parts—even the blurry ones. Suddenly, I wish they were still available.

Vanessa uses her fingers to zoom in on the image, my female staring intently at my upper thigh before scrolling higher. Precisely what part of me is she hoping to view?

She moves away from the window seat, and she shifts her weight from foot to foot before turning off the main light in the room. I can still make out her form as she crawls into bed and slips under her covers.

My mate lifts her knees, the sheets rising and forming around them, and I practically fall from my branch with how much I lean forward. What is she doing? I’m not a stupid man. My aroused mate is lying in bed, her legs spread, looking at a photo of me.

Even if she did hear my bear’s mating call, she wouldn’t be driven to these lengths. This is her own doing.

Vanessa continues scrolling through her phone. I can’t see her screen, but I’m confident she’s looking at photos of me. Her hand gradually disappears underneath the covers, and I slam my palm over my straining length when her eyelids flutter shut.

My mate is touching herself to me.

She throws her head against her pillows and slides her hand lower, and I force myself to leave my tree. I want nothing more than to stay, but I won’t do that. I’m better than that.

I find enough enjoyment in knowing she still feels desire. It’s not uncommon for rehabilitated females to refuse any form of intimacy, even from oneself, and I’m happy Vanessa doesn’t seem to face the same objections.

She lowered her arm quickly, and with confidence. She’s familiar with pleasuring herself.

My body aches, but I ignore it. I don’t want anybody to know what I witnessed tonight, mainly because it’s nobody’s business,and I force my thoughts toward boring topics as I return to Aziel’s home.

Charlie and her mates are in the family room when I arrive, and I pop my head in to announce my arrival.

“I am here,” I say. “I’m going to bed.”

I keep my lower half hidden behind the doorway, but Gray still smirks at me. I’m sure he can smell my arousal. It’s probably pouring off me in waves.

“Is that Aziel’s shirt?” Charlie asks.

I glance at myself, frowning as I search for the right words.

“Chev ripped his shirt in the woods today,” Aziel smoothly lies, pulling Charlie onto his lap.

She squeals and grabs at his hands, and I leave before their touching grows inappropriate. They hump every night after the children go to bed, and I’m eager to retire before their noises reach my ears.

I never imagined Gray could be so mean. He was kind when he touched me during the Lust ceremony, whispering promises that my mate would still love me and that our actions wouldn’t ruin me. It’s shocking to hear him on the other end of the spectrum, but I suppose versatility comes with being the King of Lust.

I shake my head, forcing thoughts of that night to the back of my mind. What happened that evening isn’t a secret, but I’m unsure if Vanessa knows. I’m not sure if I want her to. Shifters save themselves for their mates—we always have—and I don’t want her to think I am an overeager man who couldn’t wait.

Icanwait. I will wait forever if I need to.

My bed is freshly made, and clean clothing for tomorrow is laid out on the sheets.

I quite like the treatment I receive from the Wrath housekeepers, and I smile as I pick up tomorrow’s clothing. Theoutfit is more or less exactly what I wore today, and I test the stretch in the pants before putting the clothes aside.

I’m still painfully erect, and I force myself into a freezing shower until I’ve softened. It takes longer than I’d like, especially when my mind continues wandering back to Vanessa. She’s masturbating to images of me, to images of my thighs and markings.

I’m aroused within seconds of leaving the shower, but I refuse to indulge as I climb into bed.

Every brush of the sheets feels fantastic, but I ignore it as I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. I promised myself I wouldn’t fantasize about Vanessa, but it’s impossible not to when the image of her touching herself is permanently etched into my mind.

I lie in bed, wide awake, for several hours before giving up and wrapping a hand around myself. It feels good, and I pray Gray can’t hear me as I run my fist from base to tip. I’m on edge already, and I know I won’t last long.

I jerk myself quickly, and I slam a pillow over my face to muffle my moans.

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