Page 21 of The Silent Mate

My mind reeled. Heat scorched my neck and my cheeks.

Moments ago, Malik stormed past me and shut himself behind the sliding barn door across the room, but I still couldn’t move. I felt my heartbeat in every corner and chasm of my body—thumping between my ears, pounding against my ribcage, pulsing at the apex of my thighs…

I clamped my eyes shut, and the image of my mate standing naked in the doorway played in my mind.

Malik was beautiful.

Not by the conventional standards. Not like the boys I’d entertained feelings for throughout my adolescence, with perfect hair and finely-cut, picturesque muscles.

No, Malik couldn’t be compared to those boys.

He looked like a god. One of the great warriors that served the Moon Goddess—that warmed her bed and tore cities down in her name. He could’ve been plucked from the heavens, and I wouldn’t have blinked an eye.

He reminded me of a grizzly bear in stature. The sheer size of him—allof him—should’ve frightened me. Instead, my blood raced with pride and possession and need.

Dark hair dusted his impossibly long legs, padded in thick muscle that stretched and shifted with each movement. In fact, muscle covered every inch of his body, from the bulk of his shoulders to the ridges lining his torso, though his stomach possessed a natural softness, too. His muscle had been earned in battle. It was real.

And the rest of him…

I hadn’t allowed myself to study the rest of him. Not like I truly wanted to.

I almost groaned at the memory ofthatpart of him. Dark hair trailing down from his navel. A thick rod hanging half-limp from his groin, lengthening and stiffening with every passing second. A darker, bulbous head bobbing up and down as he strode past me.

A fresh wave of arousal rushed to my center, and I clenched my thighs tight.

Goddess,I’d never felt anything like it but recognized it as my body’s natural response to its fated partner. I wanted more. Wanted relief for the liquid heat that pooled at my apex. But Malik was gone. Shut away behind that door, and I didn’t have the courage to follow.

Then, as if summoned by my thoughts alone, the door flew open. It rattled, the walls shaking from the force.

I gasped, then my lungs stopped functioning properly as Malik prowled toward me once again. His one functioning pupil expanded, and electricity prickled down my spine. This male was a predator, far more formidable than any other I’d faced, but my gut knew he’d never hurt me.

I barely had time to register the large swell within theconfines of his gray sweatpants before his hands landed on my waist. Hard. Unrelenting.

One moment, I stood in the center of his kitchen. The next, he had me hoisted up against the white countertop, pushing my legs open to stand between them. Like instinct, my thighs parted to accommodate him, and a solid mass pressed hot against the seam of my denim. I steadied myself with my hands on the cool marble, bracing against the weight of him.

He couldn’t speak, but I knew what he needed. I’d seen the disgust flicker in his gaze when he inhaled Roman’s scent on my neck.

And now, he pressed close. His long, disheveled brown hair tickled my cheeks, my collarbone as he lowered his scarred face to my neck. To the same spot where his brother had sucked at my pulse and kissed my skin.

Malik inhaled, the tip of his nose brushing the hollow beneath my ear. He started trembling. Like a mountain during an earthquake, he simmered with barely controlled rage. Waiting.

I resisted the urge to shiver and tipped my head to the side instead.

“Go ahead,” I whispered, acutely aware of my nipples straining against my bra. The friction only heightened the insatiable ache spreading through my center. “You have my permission. I want you to erase him.”

The softest semblance of a growl rasped from his chest, so weak that I might’ve imagined it. Then, he moved.

One hand landed on my jaw and angled my head to the side, while the other remained on my hip and yanked me closer to the edge of the counter. The pad of his thumb was rough against my chin. His nose nuzzled down the column of my throat, his bearded jaw scratching at the sensitive skin in his path.

He inhaled again. Paused.

Guilt reared its ugly head.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized again, trembling of my own accord.

Malik stiffened. Without moving his hands, he pulled back a few inches to meet my gaze. His eyes were still hard and hungry, but a question lingered in them now as well.

“I know it smells bad,” I explained, dropping my gaze to his bare chest. Shame heated my cheeks. “Your brother’s scent on me. I’m sorry you have to endure it.”

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