Page 42 of Lost Touch
Besides, if I left, what would he do about his other problem? He’d have to knot someone. And he’d said he wanted me.
I wanted it to be me. That knowledge burned in me, a glowing coal searing my insides.
“You told me your family would fight for me if it came down to it, because as your mate, I’m part of the pack and part of the family,” I said at last. “Did you mean that? I mean, is that true? Or were you just trying to reassure me?”
“I meant it.” Drew rolled onto his side, putting his face much closer to mine. Close enough to see the little streaks of mossy green in his deep brown eyes, faint but there, like the gleaming striations in a piece of agate. He laid his hand on my back and stroked down, resting it on the swell of my ass. I didn’t know if he meant to soothe me or start the process of taking me again, but either way I wasn’t about to complain. “They would. Even Boyd. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t be paying for it for the rest of our lives, one fucking way or another. And I don’t need to ask to know he’d much rather we broke our mating bond to clear the way for the pack alliance he wants.”
“Except that you don’t want to mate with—Victoria.” Drew nodded. I remembered something else he’d said, and my blood chilled in my veins. I swallowed hard. “And they don’t want anything to get out about what happened to you. Which makes me a liability if we’re not mated.”
“I wish I’d never told you that,” he muttered, his gaze skittering away and then coming back again, boring into me with diamond-hard intensity. “This is my bullshit to worry about, not yours. And in case it wasn’t clear, that isn’t happening. Not today. Not fucking ever. If I have to choose between my family and you, I’ll choose you. Without hesitation.”
He said it like he’d stated a law of the universe or some unshakeable mathematical constant. Rate equals distance over time. A single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Drew would choose me instead of the people he’d known and loved all his life.
It didn’t compute.
“Why?” I asked, my throat so dry the word almost didn’t emerge. “You’ve been choosing them over your own well-being for a while now, it sounds like. I mean, reading between the lines, you wouldn’t be here at all. You’d have gone somewhere far, far away, and started a life out of your uncle’s shadow. Told him to go to hell with his needing an alpha heir who’s not worthless thing. And I’m nothing to you.”
His eyes flashed, gold bleeding through the brown, and his jaw set into a stubborn jut. “Because you’re mine,” he said simply. His hand traced the curve of my ass, fingers sneaking into the crease. Teasing. As if I could enjoy the feeling of him seducing me. “And close your mouth, Ash, no arguing. That ought to be fucking good enough. But if you really need another reason that makes more sense to a human, it’s because you haven’t done a fucking thing to bring any of this down on your head. I’d do just about anything to bail my parents and sister out of their mess, because we have a pack bond and a familial bond and it’s hard to separate myself from that.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “But one thing I won’t do is sacrifice an innocent bystander.”
“You shouldn’t sacrifice your own happiness, either,” I said softly.
I couldn’t resist, with his handsome face and those intense, worried, gorgeous eyes—and all of Drew, really—so close, so available for me to touch. I wriggled my arm out from between us and reached up, stroking my fingers along his stubbled jawline.
Drew turned his head, never looking away from me, and pressed a kiss to the tips of my fingers. The heat in his eyes sent an answering flush all the way through me, warmth seeping into every limb and leaving me weak and wanting.
A moment later he’d turned me over with irresistible strength, rolling himself on top, his hard cock nudging between my thighs.
He kissed my fingers again, sucking the ends into his mouth. “Can I?” he asked, his eyes glowing.
“Yes,” I whispered.
And he took me again, slowly this time, while I closed my eyes and laid back, his to use.
***
Getting knotted had a bizarrely soporific effect on me, it turned out, because I fell asleep again before Drew had even pulled out. I dozed off smiling, knowing he’d stay inside me and take his pleasure as long as he wanted.
When I stirred again, still incredibly relaxed, I found Drew propped against the headboard next to me, laptop on his knees. He’d obviously been up and around for a while before coming back to bed. A steaming cup of coffee sat on the nightstand, he’d shaved, and he smelled like shampoo.
He glanced down, a half-smile on his lips and a look in his eyes I couldn’t interpret. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said. “You ready to get out of bed for a while?”
“You’re back in bed too!” He grinned at me, and I stuck out my tongue. I rolled over onto my back, stretching my arms—which I had to remind myself to do now that it didn’t actually give me any pleasure—and letting the blankets slide down to my waist, baring my chest.
Drew’s eyes fixed on my exposed skin, and his breath came a little faster.
God, he liked what he saw, and those signs of his desire made me feel valuable in a way I hadn’t since I’d gone to that prison.
Of course, who knew if I’d ever felt valuable before that.
Maybe no one seemed to be searching for me since my disappearance because I truly never had any value to anyone.
But Drew wanted me. Magically induced or not, his lust gave me a purpose in the world.
“Maybe you want me to stay in bed for a little while longer?” I asked, peeking at him from under my eyelashes, too shy to meet his eyes directly.
Drew flushed bright red and made a sound like he’d tried to swallow his tongue and missed.
“No,” he said hoarsely, still staring at me. It sounded like yes. “No. Definitely not. Even if you can’t feel it, you’re sore by now. Swollen.” His voice had dropped another octave.
