Page 15 of Love Bites Hard (Mated to the King #2)

fifteen

IZZY

We ate in silence until I finally stood up and made my way to the bathroom wordlessly. I’d pulled the curtain over the doorway a few days earlier, so there was a little more privacy.

The lake water was clean enough that I didn’t really need to wash my hair, but I wanted to give myself more time before I went back out there and found Porter gone again. So, I showered.

Afterward, I pulled a brush through my hair and put my clothes from earlier back on. Throwing some lotion on my face and brushing my teeth came last, before I padded back into the room.

I stopped suddenly in the doorway, the curtain falling halfway over my shoulder.

I blinked once.

Then again.

Porter was sitting on our bed. His back was propped up against a pillow.

He was typing on his phone, but paused and lifted his gaze to move over my face and down my body for a moment before he looked back at his phone.

He probably just needed to use the bathroom or something.

Letting out a short breath, I finally walked to the bed. My gaze caught on a pile of underwear in the far corner of the room, and I noticed a balled-up sheet beneath it, along with the blankets that had been on the bed.

I’d never seen the sheets and blankets that were on the mattress before, so it seemed safe to assume Porter had stepped out to find them while I was getting ready for bed. Or maybe he’d asked someone else to bring them over.

Either way, he’d definitely gone hunting for the underwear I hid around the room. And found most of it, by the looks of the pile.

He went into the bathroom while I slipped into bed. Though I could’ve redistributed the underwear to continue the war, I figured my efforts would be best spent in another way that he wouldn’t see coming.

And I didn’t really want to share my bed with dirty underwear.

So, I just sprawled out in the middle of the bed. I always slept like that, and since Porter would be leaving, I saw no reason to stop.

Not wanting to watch him walk away from me again, I pressed the button to lower the canopy, and got comfortable in the dark, cozy space.

Maybe I wouldn’t feel so lonely that night.

Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath. Though I could still smell the other men faintly, Porter’s scent was much stronger. And more pleasant too. Honestly, it relaxed me.

I wasn’t even almost asleep a few minutes later, when the canopy lifted.

Porter rolled underneath it, and I turned my face toward him. My forehead creased, but my heartbeat picked up a little.

There was no way to stop my body from responding.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Sleeping next to my mate.” He pulled the blankets away just enough to slide beneath them, and I bit the inside of my cheek.

What was I supposed to do?

The sex war would require draping my body over his and driving him as close to insane as possible.

Self-preservation demanded I scoot to the other side to get away from him.

Logic told me there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to stop myself from rolling on top of him as soon as I was unconscious. But, most of me wanted to screw logic and lean hard into the self-preservation route.

“Can you scoot over a little?” Porter asked, his gigantic body squished up against one side as he tried not to touch me.

I did what he’d asked, but didn’t give him the entire bed.

It was my bed.

I needed to hold my ground.

“I haven’t slept on a mattress since I lost my family,” he said, his attention trained on the canopy above our heads as it descended over us again.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Haven’t tried sleeping in my human form, either.”

My uncertainty faded slowly, giving way to heartache.

The loss had hit him so insanely hard.

“Do you miss them?” I knew the answer to the question before I asked it, but I thought it might get him to open up a little.

“All the time. Do you miss yours?”

My parents.

Someone must’ve told him what happened to my family. Probably Hale, because I knew Blair had told him the story.

“No.” The blunt answer was honest, but Porter’s lack of response made me think I’d caught him off guard.

Hale wouldn’t have known what my parents were like. Him and Blair hadn’t been close for that long. He’d eventually hear all of the stories, but there were undoubtedly some that were still private.

And though my sisters had an idea how things had been for me, none of them knew the full story. Not that I planned to give it to Porter, either.

“You weren’t close?” he asked me.

“No. We definitely weren’t close.”

He moved a little. I got the feeling that he wanted to scoot closer to me, but he didn’t actively pull me into his arms. I thought maybe he was trying to be respectful after I yelled at him mentally while I was underwater.

“Are they the reason you keep your magic controlled more than your sisters?” he asked me.

Hale must’ve told him that too.

Or maybe he’d just picked up on it. It wasn’t a stretch, considering that he had only ever felt my power when I wanted him to.

Other than during our walk back to our room. And probably in that very moment.

“They are,” I said.

His hand brushed mine, and my throat swelled with the soft, intimate touch.

I pulled it away.

“My sisters were my best friends,” he said. “I was the oldest. It was my job to protect them. But we were all so close in age that as they learned how to protect themselves, the responsibility faded out. We did everything together. I considered Hale, Evan, and Bane good friends, but I did everything with Lana and Eve. Our parents too, a lot of the time.”

I glanced over at him, and saw him still staring up at the canopy.

“They taught all three of us how to become the alpha, even though we all knew I was the one who’d take the mantle when it became necessary. Lana and Eve could kick ass, but they were softer than me. And an alpha can’t be soft. Your sister Clementine reminds me of them. Bright. Cheerful. Smart. Nice.”

“I’m not any of those things.”

He chuckled. “Like hell you aren’t.”

“I guess I’m smart,” I corrected myself. “Smart enough to know how to win our war, at least. I definitely wouldn’t call myself cheerful, though. Definitely not nice.”

“You consistently accept presents you don’t want from pack members you aren’t interested in forming relationships with, because it’s the right thing to do. You don’t think that’s nice?”

“I call that basic human kindness. I would’ve tried to help them, if I was nice. Clem would’ve tried to help them.”

“My sisters would’ve, too. Even if it cost them their sanity. You’re not soft, Izzy, but that’s not a bad thing. I wouldn’t have mated with you if were soft. I couldn’t survive breaking the woman I tied my life with. I’m not a good man, but I have limits.”

“You had already agreed to mate with one of us. It could’ve easily been Clem.”

“I was desperate, but not desperate enough to ruin someone whose personality couldn’t survive with mine. I saw the steel in your eyes when we met. I knew you could handle it.” He paused. “That doesn’t mean you should have to handle the shit I’ve put you through, though. I should’ve realized what I was doing sooner.”

“You’ve been in the dark a long time.” I didn’t want to excuse him, but we both knew it was the truth. “Hale warned me when I agreed to mate with you. They all tried to talk me out of it. I chose this. I’m not going to let you get away with being shitty—but being here was my choice.”

“I’m glad it was you.”

Somehow, despite everything, I was too.

His hand brushed mine again.

This time, I didn’t have the heart to pull away.

He slipped his palm against mine and his fingers between my own. My throat swelled, but my chest warmed.

Maybe I could understand why Blair liked holding Hale’s hand after all.

“Is the constant magic a part of your sex war?” he asked me, after a few minutes of silence that felt suspiciously peaceful .

Oh.

Right.

“No. Pushing my magic out into the water is just draining. No amount of control can stop me from radiating right now.”

“You’re hungry?” His grip on my hand tightened slightly. “You should’ve said something.”

“I thought you’d realize.”

“I know next to nothing about sirens. I planned on asking Hale for the information when your sisters were here, but I was preoccupied with fighting the urge to drown myself in an attempt to get to you.”

My lips curved upward. “Siren magic is a bitch.”

“The sexiest bitch,” Porter agreed. “You can feed without kissing me. That wouldn’t affect the sex war, right?”

“I guess.”

“Try it.”

“Is that an order?” My voice was upbeat, but there was a warning beneath it.

“A strong suggestion. Fueled by my desire not to let my mate starve.”

I rolled my eyes, but focused on his hand and tried to find his emotions.

They hit me immediately.

Comfort.

Uncertainty.

Shreds of hope.

I went deeper, and was surprised when I discovered that the emotions had shifted.

Guilt.

Self-hatred.

Sadness. A lot of sadness.

And below that?

Steely determination.

It was like someone had lit a fire inside him. The darkness of his past still lingered, and definitely didn’t look like it was going anywhere. But that determination? It was unlike anything I’d ever felt from him before.

I wanted to ask what he was so determined to do or change, but we weren’t there.

We were still at war.

I drank his emotions until I was sated, feeling him light up more as I continued to feed.

When I finally released him, he let out a long breath. “Shit.”

“I don’t try to hurt you when I drink,” I defended myself, starting to pull my hand away.

His fingers tightened on mine. “It didn’t hurt that time. I think I’m adjusting to it.”

I lifted my eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

What was I supposed to say?

The relief that washed through me eased the tension in my shoulders entirely, though.

“Your magic feels like being injected with life, Izzy. That’s the only reason I couldn’t handle large amounts of it. I let myself become so used to barely staying alive that it hurt. If not for you, I’d still be in the forest, hiding from the pack.”

“Trying to cope isn’t the same as hiding.”

“Maybe not, but they’re similar. I shouldn’t have left. And when I heard about Curtis, I should’ve come back. I was just so angry, I knew I’d end up as bad as him.”

“You weren’t ready,” I said simply.

“I don’t know that I’m ready now. My dad would be furious with how little I’m doing in the pack. I’m going to fix that.”

“Then I’d say you are ready now. There’s no reason to hate yourself for the way you grieved. You can’t go back. If you could, you still wouldn’t have been ready. All you can do now is move on, and try like hell to survive the change.”

“The change you survived at what, fourteen?”

“I wasn’t an alpha,” I pointed out. “And Blair was basically our leader, so I didn’t have any real responsibilities other than coming up with some kind of online business to start. On top of that, I was glad my parents were gone. It was nothing like your situation.”

“You still had to be strong.”

“I just did what I had to to survive, like everyone else.” I slipped my hand out of his, and he let me go. “We’re still at war, Porter.”

“Do your worst, baby.”

I rolled onto my side, so I could finally look him in the eyes. “I’m not your baby, remember?”

His lips curved upward slowly. “Not yet.”

“Not ever.” I brushed a hand over his cock, and felt it harden immediately beneath my touch. He closed his eyes, letting out a harsh breath.

“Fuck me.”

“You’ll have to beg if you ever want that to happen again.”

“I’ll put it on the calendar.”

I dragged my hand slowly over his length, and he throbbed hard. “Wouldn’t take much to get you to the edge, would it? Even with our room smelling like a bunch of other men.”

“Don’t remind me how much I want them dead.”

“Why not?” I slipped my hands into the waistband of his shorts, and earned a low groan when I wrapped my hand around his length.

He seemed to have forgotten the question as I stroked him slowly, watching him move beneath my touch with something that felt a lot like pride. One of his hands slid between my thighs, but his fingers were pointed away from my core. He was just gripping my leg, like it was an anchor or something.

His other hand found my wrist, but he didn’t try to stop me as I worked him lightly.

When I released his erection and lifted my hand to his mouth, his eyes met mine for a moment.

And damn, they burned.

I nodded toward his hand, and the bastard knew exactly what I wanted.

He licked my palm slowly, and maintained his grip on my wrist when I wrapped my fingers around his cock again.

His chest rumbled darkly as I stroked him, my hand slick.

His hips rocked.

He gritted his teeth.

I dragged him to the edge—and then stopped while he throbbed, his pleasure fading.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” he growled, while I waited for him to come down from the ledge a second time.

“You think?” I continued, resuming stroking him after giving him a moment’s rest.

Somehow, it was one of the hottest experiences of my life.

His fingers dug into my leg as I edged him again, and again, and again, until I knew I’d tortured him longer than he’d done it to me.

Then, I finally released his erection and rolled onto my back again. I could hear his chest heaving as he struggled with the need.

“How long did you feel sick for?” he asked.

“Two or three hours.”

“Then you do this every night until you’re satisfied with the revenge. Make me hurt.”

“No. Once is enough.”

“I deserve worse.”

“You deserve to move on. So move the fuck on and finally start acting like my mate.”

His grip on my thigh tightened. “Alright. I’ll move on.”

I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

He must’ve known that too.

But neither of us brought it up as his breathing slowly evened out. Or as I reluctantly let myself curl up against his side.

Or as he pulled me half over him, settling the loneliness that had been inside my chest every night I went to sleep without him.

My body seemed set on forgiving him—but I wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

He had been suffering, and I hated that for him. But that didn’t erase what he’d done.