《Stolen Moon (A Werewolf Novel)》Chapter Fourteen
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Magnus
I am looking at the clock. I never do that while I work. If their weren't for the regular food brought in, I wouldn't know how time passes by. But now I do. And it seems to pass painfully slow. Why isn't it 7 already?
I thought of finding an excuse and go back to the residence but I fought against it. Why would I want to see the most infuriating woman in existence? I am fine here, in my office, doing...
"Damn it!" I close the file I am working on and get up. It's still early but it's my home and I will come and go as I please.
I go down the stairs and cross the bridge in a hurry. The moment I step in I am greeted by absolute silence. I sniff. She is still here. I go up the stairs and stop in front of her door.
"Antiope?"
Nothing. I listen and hear her breathing, light and even. She is sleeping. For a while, I just stand there. And then I act. I grab the doorknob and try it. Unlocked. I am relieved in a way. She doesn't think I'll harm her anymore. Or she knows a flimsy door wouldn't stop me if I wanted to.
I enter her room and I see her on the bed. What I should do is take a step back and go to my room. What I actually do is walk up to the foot of the bed and look upon her.
She is sleeping in her underwear. A black athletic bra and hipster shorts. The cover she has thrown on her is pushed aside so her whole body is on display. One long leg is straight and the other folded over it, giving me a view of her perfect ass. Her right arm is under her cheek and the other rests on the mattress. Her full lips are half opened. Her eyelashes are long and kiss the skin under her eyes. Her long, ebony hair is on the pillow.
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Never in my life have I seen a more captivating image. Not even the Northern Lights compare. I am mesmerized, going over every inch of her body again and again as if it's crucial to imprint her to memory.
"She is perfect," Henrar echoes my thoughts.
A vision clouds my mind. A vision of her being my true mate, the one destined for me. Of us being happy to have found each other. Of us mating under the moon and the eyes of the Goddess.
Without thinking, I go to the side of the bed and I kneel. She must be very tired and disoriented cause she doesn't even stir. The idea that in this state she is vulnerable makes me protective.
I extend an arm, ready to caress her soft cheek. I don't touch her, I just let my fingers hover over her warm skin, thinking what would happen if I touched her, if she woke up and found me here. She might be scared but I would let her know that I will be protecting her. Always.
Who will protect her from me? I wonder. I tighten my jaw and walk out. I don't even deserve to have such dreams. I can't.
I go to my room and get rid of my clothes but there is one thing I can't get rid of. My hard-on. I enter my bathroom and have the water running. I step under the hot spray and bargain whether I should switch to cold. But it won't do anything. Cold is my second nature.
So I give up. I need to take care of this. I can't go around like this during dinner. I grab my erection with a trembling hand and I expect Henrar to withdraw. But he doesn't. Instead, he fuels my lust with his and I get harder.
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The vision of her, half-naked on the bed comes to the front of my mind. On that vision, I do touch her. She opens her eyes and she looks at me with surprise but also invitation. I crawl on the bed with her and roll her under me. She spreads those long legs and I nest between them.
But it's not that that makes my handwork faster and harder. It's the vision of me leaning in and taking her lips. A deep, violent kiss. We battle like that for a while in my fantasy but something tells me she would be twice as ferocious if I were to kiss her for real.
Then I move to her neck. I inhale her strawberry scent and I groan in my shower. I lick her skin and I feel my knees give. And when my canines come out to mark her, I come hard in my shower for a woman I cannot have.
I let the water run down on me and clean my seed and sweat. Then I wash myself thoroughly to erase the smell and shame of my action.
How did this happen? This was supposed to be a simple business deal. We would both get what we wanted and agree to an amicable partnership. How did lust get in the way?
"Have you seen our mate? How could lust not get in the way?" Henrar offers.
Granted, Antiope is hot but she is not the only good-looking woman I have been around with. I may not have touched any of them but still. Why is that particular female getting under my skin?
Is it because she defies me? Because she is not afraid of me? Because she has the guts to stand up to The Butcher even if her sister's life is on the line? Because she is fearless and bold and clever? Maybe I should have picked someone else.
I step out of the shower and without even noticing I listen attentively to make sure she is OK. I hear her in the bathroom and after a while the water running. Those sounds of her having shower in my home will be the death of me.
Unwilling to linger in the thought of a naked Antiope, I go out to my room and open my closet. It's just dinner but it's our first dinner together so I pick out clothes I don't normally wear. A nice dress shirt and trousers will do.
After all, I got her a dress to wear. I hope she liked that. Females like new dresses, right? Maybe that will make her feel better and agree to listen to my proposition.
When I am ready, I listen once more not knowing whether I want to hear the soft rustling of the towel on her naked skin. Instead, I hear the shower still running. What's taking her so long? I frown and go out the corridor.
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