Page 47 of The Shattered Kingdom
My mattress dips at my waist. “But—”
Mason sounds like a wounded puppy. I don’t care.
“When andifI’m ever ready to sleep with you, I’ll let you know,” I say. “Stop pushing the issue and go back to your room.”
Mason sighs, and a second later, he retreats.
Despite my rejection, my body tingles with excitement at the thought of sharing a bed with him. It’s the infuriating bond. I wantMason wrapped around me, his chest pressing against my back and our legs tangled together. I want to wake up suffocated by him, and I want to push my hips back until he’s hard and ready to slide inside me.
I want it so badly I can feel it, but I’ve already given in to him twice. If he offered again, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to turn him away.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hating myself for my desperate thoughts. Mason warned me that the bond would do this, would cause these unwanted feelings, but I never imagined it would be this intense. I thought I’d have more control over it.
“What does it feel like?” I ask before Mason leaves. “The bond. What does it feel like for you?”
Mason pauses by the door. “I imagine it’s what you feel, but amplified. Shifters traditionally feel mate bonds the strongest. We’re ruled by emotion and instinct, which pairs well with a mate bond. Humans feel them the least. They’re not naturally occurring for your species, so you won’t be quite as affected. Faeries are somewhere in the middle, but closer to shifters.”
I can’t imagine the bond feeling any stronger than it does right now.
“How are you…” I trail off, not sure how to word my next question. I don’t want to give too much away. I don’t want to admit how much I want him. “How are you controlling yourself?”
Mason laughs, sounding mildly deranged. “Do you think I’m controlling myself? I’m attempting to sneak into your bed while you’re sleeping.”
“Yeah, but not to…” I trail off. I thought he was sneaking into my bed because he wanted to be near me. Was this sexually charged? I don’t like that. “Were you—”
Mason is quick to interrupt. “No, Abby. No. That was a bad example. I wasn’t going to touch you, not in any sexual manner. Ijust…” He pauses, thinking, before continuing. “I’m desperate for you, but inanymanner. I obviously want to have sex with you, but I just as equally want to be beside you. I can’t breathe when we aren’t in the same room.”
I fear what I would do if I felt the bond any more than I do now. Mason may claim it’s not entirely sexual on his end, but that’s the emotion that’s standing out most to me.
“Will the feelings subside if I give in to them?” I ask.
I’ll fuck Mason if it means I can spend the next several days ignoring him. I need him out of my head, and I’m exceptionally skilled at sex without feelings. I went to a state school for accounting, which was mind-numbingly dull. Sex and alcohol were the only forms of entertainment I had.
“Do you think Zaha would make things that easy?” Mason asks. He steps toward me, and a part of me dies as I realize he’s wearing only a pair of tight, black underwear.
He was going to sneak into my bed like that? My immediate reaction is to be angry, but the emotion doesn’t come. He’s never cuddled—never felt skin against his—and I’m sure he’s excited to experience it. I don’t believe he was trying to be a pervert.
Mason kneels beside my bed, bringing us to the same level.
“Everybody says bonds are overwhelming at first,” he explains. “It’ll settle over the next few days, maybe weeks if we continue to ignore it.”
Weeks? I have to go weeks like this? The mere thought fills me with dread. I don’t have that level of patience. I predict I have only days before I’m begging Mason to fuck me. I know who I am, and I’m fairly confident my willpower won’t last that long.
Frustrated, overwhelmed tears fill my eyes, and Mason frowns as one spills down my cheek.
“I’m so angry with you,” I choke out. “You were cruel, and I’m not ready to forgive you.”
Mason warned me this would happen when I first tried to touch him. He said the bond would make me forgive him, would make me want him, but I didn’t believe him. I thought I would be stronger than it.
I hate Zaha.
Mason brushes the wetness off my cheek. “You knew the risks involved in touching me, and I’m not going to make us both miserable by denying it. I’m not a good man, Abby. You’re going to forgive me, and I’ll let you.”
A second tear soaks into my pillow.
Mason continues. “But there’ll always be a piece of me that knows it isn’t real. Even in thirty years when we have a dozen happy children running around, I’ll remember that you’re only with me because of our bond. I’ll always know your love isn’t genuine, that it’s been forced and artificially created, and I promise you that knowledge will haunt me.”
Mason offers a weak smile. I can’t breathe.
