Page 14 of My Hexed Honeymoon

I don’t do delicate.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” she says, her voice as small and tiny as she is. “It’s not like I’ll wear it ever again.”

In that case, I’ll rip it right off you.

I clear my throat and go to grab for the zipper again, stifling a groan when my knuckles graze her smooth skin.

Her sharp intake of breath suggests she’s as affected as me, leaving me slightly dizzy.

While I did my best to shove the truth away, she’s fucking gorgeous, okay?

It’s a relief to admit it, even if it’s only in my own brain. With green eyes and delicate features and soft pink lips, I can’t stop staring at her when she speaks. There’s also a vulnerability to her I didn’t expect—a helplessness that calls to my inner warrior.

It’s just the bond,I tell myself for at least the fifth or sixth time, and thank Christ, the zipper finally slides free.

Down it goes, extra quickly since I was pulling with my might, stopping a mere inch above the curve of her ass—an asset her dress spotlights with hard-on inducing glory. It should be illegal for a dress like that to hug her curves so tightly before flaring out into the skirt that puddles and drags on the floor.

Natalia, shifts her weight from one foot to the other, sweeping her hair aside to glance over her shoulder. “Everything okay back there?”

Nope. Not now that I’m utterly fixated on the bare skin and the idea of her shuddering beneath me. I can just make out the two dimples above her ass cheeks, and I’m struggling to remember I’m not allowed to touch.

To taste.

Savor.

I force my gaze to the line of guitars on my wall and breathe out through my nose, never inhaling, absolutely not intoxicated by her herbal sweet scent. Being a witch, I guess I sort of expected her to smell like rot and ruin. Or that sulfur scent that smells like rotten eggs and lingers behind when they cast their spells.

Perhaps Natalia’s not as cruel and calculated as her mother, but that statement would apply to ninety-nine percent of the world, so it’s not exactly a compliment.

And while she’d appeared apprehensive about climbing into bed with me, she was a terrorized blank slate around Andromeda.

I’ve never seen anyone simply stand there, so resigned to taking physical abuse, like when Andromeda raised her hand to strike. It’d made it so clear how often she’d experienced the abuse, and the rage that’d filled me in the forest takes deeper roots within me and gives me something to focus on besides her ass.

“Back in the forest, with your mother…” I really should’ve planned out a better way to pose the subject before I opened my mouth, but it’s too late now. “Is she always like that?”

Natalia stills, all the muscles in her body going taut. “Yes. But she’s even worse in secret.”

All my life I’ve lamented the loss of my family, to the point I never even considered others experienced so much cruelty at the hands of theirs.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. Nobody should have to live like that.

Natalia whirs around, firing a drop-dead-already glare at me. “I don’t need your pity—I don’t need anyone’s.”

Okay, so kitty has claws, and it’ll do me well to remember that fact. Still, she misunderstands where I’m coming from. “It’s not pity. As I said to your mother and everyone else in the forest, I’ll protect what’s mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she snaps back, crossing her arms and taking another step backward. “My mother forced my hand, simple as that. I don’t belong to anyone.”

I should let it go. We had a few civil minutes, and she can peel off her dress at any time, so mission accomplished. But this is my forest, my pack, my house, and my bedroom.

My bride.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. Vows have been exchanged, and you’re the magic key to retrieving the weapon the vampires are after. Every single member of my pack is my responsibility, and like it or not, that now includes you.”

I do some backing up of my own, happy to retreat to the couch so I won’t have to deal with the ice princess and her peeling apart dress. I can almost convince myself I don’t want to rip it off her and show her exactly how commanding and wicked I can be. “Neither of us has the luxury of belonging to ourselves, and I only have so much patience to give.”

Silence on her end, but the inferno glowing within the depths of her eyes conveys I’ve pissed her off.

Fine by me. If she wants to spend our time together exchanging jabs and insults, I’ve got plenty locked and loaded.

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