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CONNOR

I can’t believe she did that—can’t believe she jerked me off. But even more than her soft hands stroking my shaft, I keep coming back to that one moment after she cleaned me up. When she leaned down and sucked the head of my cock. I can still feel her soft lips wrapped around me in a brief but thorough kiss. I can still feel her wet tongue brushing over me, as if she was curious to taste my seed.

Stop it, I tell myself. You know you need to stop. She’s already done more than she’s probably comfortable with. Don’t forget, she thinks you’re her brother!

Still, I can’t forget how she let her gown down, or the feel of her breast—soft and warm and heavy in my hand. I know she was as turned on as I was— I could smell her scent, which got hotter and hotter as she stroked me and I teased her nipple.

I think about how she said her father had a brand like mine—my brand is the mark of my pack. I got it when I was just a kid. Not all packs brand their members, but ours did. Of course, I got kicked out just before I was sent away to prison—that’s one thing that makes me a Rogue Alpha —no pack affiliation. But the brand is permanent.

Does the fact that her father had a brand mean Sunny has Were blood running through her veins? Her scent is getting stronger—especially when she’s hot—but I still can’t quite be sure. One thing is certain, she’s never been through a Heat Cycle before. Not if she’s never gotten turned on by sex.

For a female Were , their Heat Cycle is a monthly thing. They come into heat once a month and need to be bred. But it sounds to me like that has never happened to Sunny . So maybe I’m wrong. Because if she did have Were blood and she hasn’t had a cycle yet, well, that would mean she’s probably a dud—a female with no Were instincts like the need to be bred. Or else some kind of Repressed Omega , but those are so rare they’re just legend. So that can’t be it.

Maybe she’s just one of those women who can’t get turned on unless they’re with a man they trust and know really well—a demi-sexual. I listened to a podcast series about it once.

Though Sunny and I have only known each other in person for a few days, there’s no doubt that we’re close. We poured our hearts out to each other in our letters. So it would make sense for her to feel closer to me than to that cowardly little asshole of a boyfriend.

Just thinking of Charles makes me clench my jaw. I bet he never takes the time to give her pleasure—to really turn her on. He’s probably all about getting his rocks off and doesn’t give a damn if she comes or not. No wonder she doesn’t enjoy sex with him!

I wish I could make her come. How many nights in prison did I dream of having a warm, willing woman in my bed? Of touching her just the right way to make her moan…

That’s part of being a Were , I think—wanting to give your woman pleasure. Of course, you meet some assholes who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves, but most Were males I know are all about making their woman come.

Then I push the thought aside and remind myself yet again that Sunny thinks I’m her brother. I really have to stop pushing the envelope here. I don’t want her to feel guilty or bad about letting me stay with her. I only want good things for her. So I’m going to go straight to sleep and keep my hands to myself.

That’s what I tell myself as I climb into bed beside her and I swear I mean it—really I do.