Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Nine

Her smell was intoxicating to him. Even with the water from the shower pelting down on him and the smell of her shower gel all around, all he could smell was her desire. Desire for him. Her male. She didn't even know it.

This was what he'd been waiting a thousand years for. Right now, her species didn't matter. Their war didn't matter. None of it did. Right now, all that mattered was her needing him between her legs.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Still, it didn't take from the sudden heaviness in his balls. Her gaze wasn't helping. Somehow, he shot harder.

The need to take that edge off her was compelling. To thrust into her with his fingers as she clenched around him. With the full moon so near, it wasn't wise to get any ideas.

He could give her the first orgasm she'd have had in thirty years. He was sure, when they got to that stage, she'd be screaming it.

This was the kind of stuff the witch needed. But not right now. Right now, with the full moon so near and their contempt for each other sky high, fucking wasn't a good idea.

He'd have her—eventually. Though not here. Not now. Maybe- by the time he claimed her- they'd hate each other a little less.

Evie watched him from the bed. She leaned forwards unconsciously to see him better. Her eyesight wasn't like his.

"So I don't add up," He said, voice rumbling. Her mouth had dried. How could she be more attracted to a man she hated than any boyfriend she'd ever had? And by that, she meant all of her suitors across the entire span of her life. Three hundred years and all.

Something else was in the mix here. Something bigger than her.

There was no way the man she'd found most attractive in all of her life was this one. Wasn't his personality supposed to make him repulsive?

"Not one bit," She lied.

"Not even a little bit?"

She smiled mockingly. "Not at all."

"Then you're not attracted to me?"

"You don't make me feel anything- excluding hatred."

That was an obvious lie. If she thought for one minute he wouldn't know she was doing it, then she'd wait until he was well out of sight to take the pain away. And by that, she meant she'd finger herself. To thoughts of him, of course. Not that there was much else beyond his physical appearance to fantasise over.

He smirked. He felt she could be warmed to him. Maybe not emotionally but definitely sexually. Her body would respond to her male.

"Then you're not afraid of coming in here, are you?"

This was going to be fun.

One thing he was learning about Evie Wicker? The witch didn't have it in her to say no to a challenge.

Her lips fell open. He watched them carefully. He wanted them around his shaft, sucking on his cock. Kissing him.

Damned fucking urges.

"Why would I do that when I'm comfortable where I am?"

"I can think of plenty of reasons."

"That's funny. I can't even think of one."

"Don't you want to prove your point?"

"I have nothing to prove."

He—liked this. He liked teasing her. He liked that she joined in. He'd taken women to his bed before but there'd never been any teasing. They were she-wolves. Women who felt blessed to be fucked by their King. Women who were constantly asking him if they were doing it right and telling him how good they wanted to make him feel. They fucked. But that was all it ever was. He fucked and then he left.