Chapter 12
Lucian
It’s been hours since I had Cara in my office, and in that time all I’ve done is second-guess every word, every touch.
What’s gotten into me?
Realistically, I know it’s probably just the mate bond, even though I still don’t want to believe it’s possible, but when I saw her get hurt, something changed inside me.
My hound wanted us to rip and tear and destroy the guy for daring to touch our mate.
It took some serious control not to tap into the strength of my hound when I pulled that kid off, the one who hurt her.
Then it took what little control I had left not to be angry with her for putting herself in danger like that.
That woman will be the death of me.
As hard as I think it’s going to be, this pet situation has to end. It’s time for me to leave before I do something really stupid—like kiss her.
I was so close to doing it earlier. My thumb rested on her lip far longer than was decent, and the crazy part is, I think she wanted me to do it.
That thought alone should be all the information I need to convince myself to leave.
I’ll finish out the semester as her professor, and then we’ll never have to see each other again.
My hound growls internally, telling me there’s no way in hell he’ll let us abandon our mate like that. I know Coop would have a few choice words for me too.
If only he knew the extent of my issues.
Cara is reading something on her phone—and has been all evening despite it not vibrating with new messages. I’ve been keeping my distance from her, fighting against what my hound wants, which is to curl up beside her on the couch. Curiosity has me finally giving in.
And that’s all it is. Curiosity.
It definitely, one hundred percent, isn’t because I also want to be around her. Nope.
I rest my head in her lap, catching sight of an email exchange on the screen.
Our email exchange. The last one I sent to her before showing up to play pet.
She tosses her phone aside, and I turn my gaze to watch as she blows out a breath, the split in her lip looking far less red than it did earlier.
Good. She’s taking care of it.
“I’m so confused, Cooper,” she admits, distractedly rubbing my fur.
I turn enough to lick her arm, hoping it’ll spur her on to tell us what she’s feeling. I shouldn’t be this fucking interested, but fuck it, I am.
She laughs and doesn’t wipe away my doggy slobber.
“It’s just this guy. A professor,” she whispers the last word like her apartment is bugged and the authorities will be here any moment to arrest her.
“The not-so-nice one Reagan and I talk about sometimes. Hot Prof. We’ve started emailing a little, and he’s a completely different person when we talk.
Totally not the rigid guy he can be during class.
And if that wasn’t complicated enough, he patched me up earlier after a little incident. ”
She touches her bottom lip, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the same thing I am.
My thumb was there only hours ago. Can she still feel the ghost of my touch?
My hound loves the idea. He shifts on the couch, making us nudge our snout into her neck in what feels like his attempt at a hug.
We breathe in her scent. All orchids and musk and ours.
“I’ve never felt this drawn to someone,” she whispers, hugging us back. “But it’s dangerous, and I don’t even know what he thinks about our brief exchanges.”
I wish I could tell her what we’re thinking right now.
If shifting into my human form wouldn’t scare the shit out of her, I’d do it here and tell her all the complicated emotions running through us.
The want and yearning, the mate bond, the hatred that should be there but just isn’t anymore, regardless of how much I try to force it.
We don’t do that, though. We can’t. Instead, we just sit next to her as the hours pass and the sky outside grows darker.
When she gets up from the couch to brush her teeth, I know tonight is the night I have to leave. This is too dangerous now, and the longer I stay in her presence, the harder it’ll be to fight this bond.
Distance. That’s exactly what we need.
I came here on a whim to find out what she knew about her angelic ancestors, and now that I know she’s clueless, there’s nothing left for me.
My hound disagrees, but I stay firm and force him to comply.
Twenty minutes after she said goodnight to us, I quietly jump down off the spare bed and look around at the room that’s been my strange sort of home for the past few weeks.
It’s time to go.
Out in the hall, I hear a soft whimper coming from behind her half-closed bedroom door. I tilt my head, stepping closer to listen in case she’s in danger. Leave it to this woman to get attacked for a third time. Except I’d know if someone entered her room.
There’s a low vibrating hum that has me peeking through the crack to see what’s going on.
I go still.
Is she…?
Sniffing the air, her arousal fills my senses and damn near knocks me on my ass. Fucking hell.
She’s touching herself.
From my position in the hall, I can’t see the toy she’s using, but I know there is one. She gasps again, then releases this low, mewling sound that has my blood heating. I watch as her movements turn frantic, wholly unable to look away.
She’s close, and when she comes, it’s my name that passes her lips.
Lucian. My hound howls internally, satisfied to know that our mate is getting off while thinking of us.
Hearing my name like a plea, I can’t stop my paws from moving us forward.
I’m contemplating shifting right here and now. She calls, and I’m there.
I bet she’s already slick enough that it would take zero effort to slide inside her to the hilt.
The vibration stops as she turns the toy off, and when her eyes spot my prowling form, she jumps a little. “Oh! Cooper, you scared me.”
Something falls off the bed, and my hound zeros in on the object.
It’s her toy, and it’s glistening.
Our mouth waters, and suddenly, my hound takes control. We leap forward and snatch the toy up in our mouth then dash from the room. The taste of her explodes on our tongue, just as sweet as I imagined.
We’re in the corner when she finds us, the toy licked clean of her desire, but that hasn’t stopped us from continuing to lap at it just in case we missed some.
If my hound weren’t in control right now, I’d feel a little silly licking a fucking dildo, but with the taste of her pussy still on my tongue, I don’t really care.
I just want more.
“You naughty boy,” Cara says as she takes the toy from between our paws. I want to shift and show her just how naughty we can really be, but I don’t. Instead, I breathe in the orgasm I can still smell on her thighs, wishing we could lick her clean too.
The rumble that leaves my throat is deep.
“I know, I know,” she says, misunderstanding the sound. “I’ll just be a minute, and then we both need to get some rest for real. Okay?”
I tilt my head, and she rubs my muzzle. My tongue drags across her fingers, tasting her juices once again.
“Come on. If you’re having trouble sleeping, you can stay with me tonight.”
She doesn’t need to tell us twice. We’re up and in her bed before she even makes it to the bathroom. Her laughter echoes through the darkened space as I bury myself in her sheets, breathing in the scent of her pillow and the small wet patch that smells exactly like her pussy.
This is torture. The need to shift and claim what’s mine is almost painful, but I hold it back. I curl up in her bed and wait for her to return, completely forgetting that I’d ever planned to leave.
Now that I’ve tasted her, my mate, how could I?