Page 34 of Sire

I want Sire, and I want to know. I want to join the godly devil in his bed and burn with him forever.

And did I mention that Sire’s been sitting there in grey, cotton pajama pants, with no shirt on, this whole time?

When he stormed into the room, all gun, ink, and muscles, Jesus took the wheel and my mouth because I couldn’t function.

I don’t know how I managed to serve up scrambled eggs when I could barely breathe at the sight of him.

Dark crosses and angels cover his thick neck, arms, andhands. Lions with bloody fangs pierce his swole pecs. They prowl over his broad, sculpted shoulders, too, but his shredded abs are bare. No ink. No hair. Just muscle after ripped muscle leading down to…

Dear God, I wanted to drop to my knees.

My mouth watered.

What’s that line on a man called? The one he has that looks like a thick, angled belt of abs pointing straight to his…

Yep, I saw it hanging.

Heisa stallion. That’s why I asked about his first time because I don’t know how any woman or man can fit him inside, but I want to try.

I trust him to try.

I trust we’redestinedto try.

“I’m not afraid of you or your dark needs.” I stare into his eyes. “Try me.”

“You want me totryyou, Wren?” His glare narrows. “Is that what you think about when you touch yourself, Angel? I’ve heard you, too, moaning my name. Such a horny little virgin, trying to tempt me. Is that what you want? My dick, opening every tight, wet part of you for the first time?”

The flush to my cheeks is hot, the slick flood between my thighs uncontrollable. “Yes,” I boldly answer. “Open every part of me, Sire.”

Like a dark shadow up a wall, he rises. He wants me to see every manly, menacing inch on him, as if he’s warning me to stay away, to stop tempting him.

Grabbing the countertop, he leans toward me, tension vibrating off his flexing muscles. “I willnevertry a woman I rescue or any man I save because it’s not right. And I want themright. I want them bent over and open for me. I want them wet or hard and in heat. I want to see it, taste it, smell it, touch it, and take it. I want them begging me to breed them becausethat’swhat I do, little angel.”

Shockwaves pulse to my clit, my core clenching, my instincts responding.

He growls, “Iama sire. I’m an animal made to breed people who beg for every inch of my hard dick, every drop of my sweet cum. I fill them, breeding them so hard and so many times, what’s so natural and right feels so fucking wrong and dark and dirty, and I love it. I don’t want to stop. Idon’tstop, and they don’t stop begging for more.”

“You… You have a bunch of kids?”

Why do I want the answer? Why do Ifearthe answer?

“No,” he seethes. “I’m always protected because I don’t deserve kids. I’m a fucking beast who’s just like my evil father. I want to take and claim and breed, and I want the whole world to see me do it because ICAN. I can fuck that hard and ruin anyone who loves me.”

“But…” Suddenly, my heart hurts. “But you said you’ve never been in love.”

“I haven’t. I mean, my family. I mean, anyone who trusts me. I betray them. I ruin their lives.” He’s deadly serious. The light in his eyes, gone. “You don’t want me, Wren. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve far better than me.”

“But I?—”

I’m stopped by a text pinging his phone. Across the open loft, we can hear it in his bedroom.

“Shit,” he mutters, quickly turning away to answer it.

With shaking hands, I finish putting away the dishes.

It’s not fear that has me trembling. It’s desire. It’s fate. I want everything Sire described. The visions he’s put in my mind of his dark needs; I want to feel them.

I’m meant to fill them.