Page 54 of The Wolf's Bullied Pregnant Mate
She hit six again.
“Go again,” I told her.
Sweating, she nodded, a new determination entering her eyes.
Six again.
“Do you want to protect your home, Adalyn?” I goaded without the venom and real anger I had once used. “Demons won’t give you a second chance.” I put my mouth at her ear. “And a wolf won’t always be waiting in the trees to save you when you’re defenseless. Come on,again.”
I knew my wolf taunt would get her more focused. She hit seven this time, and the eighth was much closer.
My lips teased the shell of her ear. “You’re doing so good, Adalyn.” My hands splayed over her torso, brushing the waistband of her sweatpants.
“Don’t distract me,” she hissed.
Andoh, I wanted to desperately. I wanted to see how well she would focus if I slipped my fingers in her and teased her to completion. But I didn’t. I let her focus, and the next go, she hit eight targets.
She spun around, kissing me, a smile on her lips. It felt all too familiar, like a routine we had naturally fallen into now—I had never kissed for the sake of kissing until her. Kissing had been a segue into sex, a way to get a hookup desperate for more. I had never truly enjoyed it for the sake of enjoying it.
I savored the taste of her mouth on mine before she pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was backed against the wall where I had made the markers for her target practice.
“Okay,trainer,” she drawled. “Let’s see what you can withstand.”
I bared my teeth at her, cocking my head. “Bring it on, witch.”
I pointed at my left shoulder, my right side, both my legs and my stomach. “Areas of aim. Go off any of those, and I’ll have that pretty throat beneath my hands before you can blink.”
Adalyn laughed darkly before she shook herself off, readying herself.
Her blasts of magic hitting me square in the chest knocked me off-guard, slamming me back against the wall as I wheezed.
“Fuck,” I choked out.
Adalyn cursed and went to rush to me, but I held up a hand. “Keep going.”
“Zeph—”
“Keep. Going.”
Her magic sizzled on my skin as she hesitantly blasted five more shots at me, aiming just off the specific place I had told her. She caught my collarbone, one of my knees, and my ribs. I wheezed, coughing, as I recovered.
“You know, this pain is actually good,” I said. “It’s hot.”
Adalyn only laughed as she twirled a thread of power around her finger. “Want some more?”
I met her determinedly. “Go for it.”
So she did. Over and over, alternating between me and the wall so I could catch a break.
Finally, we paused for lunch and made our way back to bed. Adalyn murmured something at the doorway.
“It’s a beseeching,” she said. “To ask for forgiveness for the use of power without any true outcome.”
“There’s an outcome,” I said. “Practice. Ensuring you’re better trained. When we go into firearms training, we don’t call all those bullets a waste. We say it’s practice because if we don’t use them in those situations, then nobody would be able to shoot in real times of need.”
As we heated up more rice—again—Adalyn asked me more questions.
“How come weapons?” she asked. “Why not go for the likes of Alex’s role of directing operations and leading your own team? Or like Sweeney with scouting.”
