Page 117 of Rejected By the Shifter King
“You’re close to making me blush with how hard you’re staring.”
The mocking tone has me gasping, my cheeks burning like mad now as my eyes meet his amused gaze. How long has he known? How long has he been watching me watch him?
“I...I didn’t—I wasn’t—”
“We are mated, Samira.”
Oh my goodness, Hexius is actually purring, and the sound is to die for.
“Do you not know that means you own every part of me as I do yours?”
I...I have no words. Hexius is mine? Every part of him?Mine?
The concept is so overwhelming, so impossible to process, that I just sit there gaping at him like a fish while he watches me with those golden eyes that seem to see straight through to my soul.
“The water’s ready.”
He’s already crossed the room and scooped me off the couch before I even realize what he means to do. Preter speed will surely be the death of me, and oh!
Water spills over the tub as he lowers me first, and then he settles right behind me while I’m nestled between his powerful thighs. The heated water is like silk against my oversensitive skin, but it’s nothing compared to the feel of his hard body cradling mine. I can feel every inch of him pressed against my back, including the growing evidence of his desire.
I’m so dead.
“Relâche-toi,” he murmurs against my ear. “Let me take care of you.”
My toes curl as he starts soaping my body, his hands moving over my shoulders with reverent care—
So, so dead.
“You’re still thinking too hard,” Hexius purrs. “I can practically hear your mind racing.”
“Sorry, I just—” I break off when his hands slide down to cup my breasts, my body jerking as his thumbs brush across the hardened tips. “H-Hexius!”
“That’s better,” he says with dark satisfaction. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
His hands are everywhere after that, sliding soap across my skin with movements that are half healing touch, half seduction. When he works his way down to my thighs, I can only arch back against him with a whimper as he spreads them gently open and his fingers find my swollen folds.
“Hexius...”
“Oui, ma belle?”The French endearment comes out rough, possessive. “Tell me what you want from me.”
I want him to never stop touching me like this.
I want his hands claiming every inch of my skin.
I want...
“You,” I whisper, the words tumbling out. “I w-want you.”
His hands still for a moment, and then he’s turning me around in the water, positioning me so I’m straddling his hips.
“Then say you’re mine, Samira.”
The evidence of his desire presses against my core, and it’s just too, too much once again.
“Say it.”
A command wrapped in a growl, and the words he demand come tumbling out in surrender.
