Page 188 of Lana Pecherczyk
He was a manipulative, alpha, psycho bastard. Controlling, selfish sonovabitch who loved playing games. Bloody hell, it washot.
“You think,” she panted, wrestling her control back, “that this makes up for letting me walk away? For not saying it back?”
His tongue stilled. He looked up, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Saying what, Blake?” he asked softly.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t give him the answer. Not yet. Instead, she shoved him away hard, snapping his head back, breaking contact. The abrupt absence of his touch made her body scream in protest, but her pride demanded it.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know the answer.” Her words were shaky but resolute.
River allowed the distance. He leaned back against the pool wall, arms still wide, feathers partly floating on the water’s surface, partly over the glowing, mossy ledge.
He stared at her through entitled eyes. Waiting.
And it wasn’t enough.
What was wrong with her?
She’d never felt this territorial, this possessive, thisangrywith her ex. But with River, every emotion was magnified to extremes she couldn’t control.
“Tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me why you can’t say it.”
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
Blake’s question hung suspended in the humid night air, echoing in their private alcove along with the churning waterfall, the distant growl of thunder.
River avoided meeting her eyes. His emotions were a mix of pain, guilt, and a love so deep it made her throat clog with emotion.
Tell me I belong here.
Tell me you’ll fight for me.
Tell me you’ll never let me go.
He finally looked up. Agony and desperation warred in his eyes. His throat worked. But the words remained prisoners behind his teeth.
Blake waded back to him, disturbing the water into luminous eddies. Beneath the water surface, his erection strained against his leather breeches. The tip breached the water’s surface, a pearl of precum catching the uncanny glow. A wicked thought tugged at her lips.
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the evidence. Too late.
“Blake…” he warned.
“Yes, wing-mate?”
“What’s that look in your eyes for?”
Her smile stretched into a feral grin as she reached for his right wing. Damp feathers yielded beneath her fingers. She sank her fingers into the delicate underside of the trailing edge, stroking slowly, teasing the sensitive quills.
River’s reaction was visceral. His pupils blew wide, the tendons in his neck grew taut, and he dropped his head against the wall. His cock jerked violently, the exposed tip darkening to a dusky purple against his abdomen. “Blake … fuck … don’t you dare…”
“Don’t?” She pressed closer, lips brushing his ear. “Just say ‘rainbow’ and I’ll stop.”
“You’re so perfect for me,” he mumbled, breathing turned ragged, chest heaving. Sweat beaded across his brow.
“Not the words I’m looking for.” She added the other wing to her attentions.
