Page 178 of Psycho Beasts
Xerxes batted at the strands and kicked his back legs adorably.
After ten minutes of play time, Xerxes sat up and ignored my attempts to throw my hair into his face. His purple cat eyes went from sleepy and playful to unamused.
He haughtily sniffed the air and licked a paw.
My omega had regained control, and he was over my antics.
Too bad for him, because I was still amused. “Wittle itty bitty cute kitty.” I scratched under his chin until he trembled and closed his eyes. I peppered his head with kisses as I scratched. “Sadie’s wittle baby.”
Xerxes bit my finger with his incisors. Poor thing put his whole body into it, but he was so small he didn’t even break the skin.
I giggled. “Who knew you had such a biting problem?”
Suddenly, as if my words had shaken him out of a trance, the kitten scrambled backward off my lap.
Before I could toss my hair at him again, a very naked six-foot-five male was crouched on the rug.
His olive skin shone in the firelight, but it wasn’t smooth and unblemished with its usual shine.
The air left my lungs, and I choked in shock.
Xerxes’s neck, and both pecs, were covered in bruises and welts with hundreds of small, round indents.
I’d bitten every square inch of his skin.
With his lean muscles, long hair, deep V lines, and daggers glowing with enchantment as they returned, strapped to his thighs, he looked like a wild warrior of lore.
As I appreciated my work, Xerxes scrambled backward.
His face contorted with horror.
I grumbled and covered my naked bits with my hands. “Well, that’s comforting.” What woman didn’t want her love to scramble away from her in disgust after taking her virginity and telling her he loved her?
It was not good for my lady ego.
Xerxes spoke, and his voice was no longer the guttural growl from the day before. His honeyed accent was back. “Baby girl, I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t believe…”
He covered his mouth with a shaking hand and moved further away from me.
I ignored the way my heart melted when he said “baby girl.”
But now he was apologizing.
The romance books I’d loved to read growing up had made men sound way less dramatic than they really were.
Highly upsetting and unfortunate for women everywhere.
The beginning of a tension headache pounded through my skull. “Dude. Don’t make it weird.”
Xerxes opened and closed his cut jaw, dragging lean fingers across his stubble. “Weird?”
My core clenched at the scratchy noise as my nipples remembered the rough abrasion dragging across. Was it too soon to bring up that we’d said, “I love you”?
His nostrils flared, and his eyes began to glow.
I squeezed my legs together and debated trying to crawl toward him sexily.
From the ache pounding through my kneecaps, I’d probably collapse like I was geriatric.