Page 69 of Can't Help Growling in Love
I think it through, then confirm, “I wouldn’t mind that. It sounds like fun.”
A rumble starts in his chest, a deep, low growl. “You’d want me to chase you, baby? Pin you down and fuck you right there?”
Why does that sound so fucking hot?
“Exactly.” I melt in his arms. “I hope the weather holds. I don’t think running around in the storm at night would be too smart.”
He snorts, but he sobers quickly, brushing a thumb over my cheek.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs. “But I’ll have to.”
He steps away from me and closes his eyes. I follow before I’m fully aware of what I’m doing and cup his face with both hands, forcing him to look down at me.
“What are you talking about?”
He struggles for a moment, then admits, “It’s not just the hunting. I’m worried about the bite. It’ll hurt. And you said you didn’t like pain. That was the only limit you gave me, and I know I’ll fucking trample all over it tonight.”
I freeze, thinking back on the conversation we had in his car. “I did say that. But this is different—a different kind of pain.”
At least I think it will be. I’ve never been bitten before, but for some reason, I’m not dreading it the way I probably should be. Especially considering that I now know exactly how big and sharp Asher’s canines are.
“How can pain be different?” he asks. “If it hurts you, it’s bad.”
I think quickly, trying to find a way to explain how I feel.
“It’s because something great will come of it,” I say finally. “Like childbirth. Everyone says it hurts like hell, but at the end, you’ve got a tiny little baby, so it’s all worth it, you know?”
Asher groans and scrunches his eyes shut again. “Don’ttalk about babies right now. I’m barely holding on as it is.”
I squint at him. “Are you okay?”
“No, June, I’m not okay,” he growls, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I want to bend you over the couch, fill you with my cum, and fucking breed you, but I need to finish up my work here, then help you rip up the carpet in your basement to burn off some of this energy.”
“We don’t have to do the carpet thing today,” I say quickly.
I squeeze my legs together to hide how much his words turn me on. We’renotready to discuss babies yet. I thumb the faint bump of the implant in my arm through my t-shirt, but for once, it doesn’t fill me with the same reassurance I used to feel. If everything goes well, I do want to have this conversation with Asher in the future, beyond the acknowledgment that we both want kids someday.
But he shakes his head and stomps back toward his desk. “We do. We’re going to go to your house, where you’ll take a long nap while I spend some time in your basement.”
I gape, staring after him. “What?”
He turns on his heels and frowns at me from the threshold of the booth. “You need rest after your shift. Once the moon rises…” He lets out a low growl, then adds, “You won’t get much sleep overnight.”
Oh.
Biting my lip, I try not to give in to the images of what that’ll be like. There’s no way he’ll last for the entire night, is there? No one has that kind of stamina.
But Asher’s a werewolf, and he knows his body best. I’d be a fool to overlook his warning.
I try to stay out of the way as he finishes up his work tasks for the night and whirls around the office space, cleaning up. He keeps throwing glances my way, as if he’s worried I might disappear at any moment, so I make a point of relaxing on the couch. He wipes down the counters and takes the trash out tothe curb, and I nestle back against the cushions and answer texts and emails on my phone. If he’s right, and we’ll be completely focused on each other once the full effect of the moon hits him, I should let people know so no one sends a rescue party after me. I’ve never been offline for more than twelve hours or so, and I don’t want anyone to worry.
The moment Asher’s colleague, Natalie, shows up at the door, he jumps up from his seat in the booth and hustles over to my side. He takes my sweatshirt and helps me put it on, tugging it carefully over my head, and I let him because it seems to soothe him. His growling quiets, which I take as a good sign.
“Hey,” Natalie greets me, hand outstretched. “Marcos told me Asher had a girlfriend. You’re Tia’s colleague from the hospital, right?”
I brighten at this. “Yeah, and you’re her friend who makes the jewelry,” I say, eyeing the snakes coiled on top of her head. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Asher wraps his arm around my shoulder, not interrupting us but visibly vibrating with impatience.
