And then he took this slow, deep breath. He was smelling me. He was savoring the air between us.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, and his tone changed completely, dropping into something so deep and dark it made my knees go a little weak, “and you’re in heat. Perfect.”
I swear those words should not have made my heart pound the way they did, but the moment they hit my ears it was like they sank into my skin and melted all the way down to my belly.
I felt this horrible, traitorous rush of warmth between my legs, and I tried to press my thighs together tighter, like I could somehow hide it from him, but of course that was stupid because I knew he could smell it.
He could probably smell every thought in my head right now, and that was the worst part because my thoughts were not innocent. The
