Page 12 of Cursed (Blood Moon Pack #1)
N ori watches the Prince slam the bathroom doors. “ What the fuck was that, Aylin? We are in so much trouble. And why was he so angry over a few marks on my shoulder? ”
“ Oh my gods, his Wolf Voice! ” Aylin exclaims. “ I don’t know what came over me. Sorry for pushing you to Claim him. I can’t understand his reaction at all. ”
Nori, still catching her breath, frowns. “ We are seriously attracted to our new Mate. I have never felt desire like that before. ” She chuckles nervously. “ I thought I was going to climax standing over that table of food. ”
Pushing herself up off the floor, Nori slowly walks toward the fresh clothes. “ It was a mistake not to get dressed first. I got distracted by all the food. ”
Aylin’s tone becomes serious. “ Let’s keep our heads and figure out what we are going to tell him. He must know that only repeated whippings with silver can leave those kinds of marks. ”
Nori shakes her head, trying to clear the last of her arousal. “ Right. Get dressed. Plow into that pile of food. Figure out how we are going to explain the scars. Got it! ”
“ At least his anger wasn’t directed at us. ”
“ Yup. There’s that bright side! ” Nori says, smiling.
Grateful for the bra, underwear, and warm socks, she quickly dresses into the pair of thick, brown leggings and soft, long-sleeved, tan shirt the Prince left out for her. She leaves the pair of plain tennis shoes on the floor, not sure if she should wear shoes while in his rooms.
These basic clothes are a far cry from the scratchy fabric of her tattered maid’s dresses back home.
And she can’t remember the last time she’s had a proper bra.
Ever? She takes a moment to enjoy the soft fabric against her skin until her hunger returns with a vengeance.
Then, Nori runs back to the table to eat.
R yland quickly removes his clothes and turns only the cold water on in the shower, hoping to alleviate his maddening desire. He hangs his head, letting the freezing water run over his body, too aroused to even be angry at Bade for taking control. The icy water is like fire on his scars.
Bade eventually says, “ Sorry. ” Then, “ Just take care of it so you can act somewhat normal around her. ”
Ryland, chest heaving, reluctantly adds the hot water, soothing the stinging scars. He watches the blood that constantly oozes from them run down the shower drain for a moment before he grabs his favorite lubricant.
With his right hand now slick, Ryland angrily jerks off, trying to come as quickly as possible.
He’s pissed for the millionth time that no female will willingly bed him because of this fucking curse.
Pissed that Bade took over and pressed her warm body into his.
Pissed that she’s taking her sweet-ass time rejecting this stupid Mate Bond.
Then, the memory of her stepping from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, returns in vivid detail—her damp hair, cascading over her bare shoulders, the outline of her breasts, pushing against the towel. She is exquisite.
Ryland’s hand slows down, and he begins rocking his hips in time with his downward motion. He leans his other hand against the shower wall for support, resting his head on his forearm. Savoring that memory, the muscles in his abdomen tighten as his climax edges closer.
His breaths become shallow, reliving the sensations of her warm body pressing up against him, his erection digging into her ass, and he moans softly. Remembering the moment his lips brushed her neck, a low growl escapes him, and he tightens his grip on his swollen cock, sliding up and down faster.
Inhaling the scent of his temporary Mate’s arousal still hanging heavy in the air, his muscles tighten; his balls tighten. His hips thrust harder and faster.
Panting and moaning now, he slaps his free hand over his mouth, hoping to muffle the sounds he’s making.
The second he pictures her head thrown back against his chest, moaning, the orgasm he’s been chasing shudders through his entire body.
His groans of pleasure come out in quick, heated bursts as he continues pumping his shaft through to the end of his climax.
Sucking in deep shuddering breaths, Ryland hangs his head, recovering from the strongest orgasm he’s had in years. As his breathing slowly returns to normal, he reaches for the soap and says to Bade sadly, “ I think this is going to be the most painful rejection yet. ”
After cleaning up and rinsing off, Ryland shuts off the jets and steps out of the shower.
He towels off as gently as he can, trying not to irritate all the scars.
They cover the back of his neck, the reason for his shoulder length hair, his entire torso, arms, and legs—they are pretty much everywhere.
He thinks how totally fucked he is for the millionth time. Then carefully, Ryland wraps his body in gauze in an effort to soak up the blood that weeps from the scars. He adds a layer of thicker bandages before putting on a clean pair of jeans and a black, long-sleeved t-shirt.
He looks in the mirror and frowns as he does his best to clean up his face. Getting out a handkerchief so she won’t have to watch it leaking, he strides out of the bathroom to get some answers.