Purest

15. Intoxicatingly Hot

Mia

But she didn't want to be alone with him. Especially now.

Grumbling, muttering under her breath, she discreetly rubbed the tears from her cheeks, taking deep breaths before she was ready to face him.

"Will you allow me the freedom to bask in the beauty of your countenance, min dronning? I have missed you so." Almost pleading, the Lycan King requested in a gruff, obviously rarely used, gentle voice only reserved for her.

Fuckery fuck! He was ancient alright. With no filter, expressing his thoughts, uncaring if they had an audience.

Too aware of him, his words made her heart flutter. Butterflies stretched in her stomach gleefully. Combined with a sexy accented voice...her thighs clenched underneath the table, trying to quench her need for sex, for him. Recalling his long, hot tongue giving her pleasure. Albeit, it was his lycan beast but still...

Everyone was silent except Octavius and West, coughing discreetly, moving away from her. While Constantine growled in displeasure showing his possessiveness.

Of course, the men could smell her arousal. This kept on getting better and better. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

Let's get this shit over with!

Mia jumped from her seat, intending to exit her favorite place with dignity intact. Dismissing the presence of her culpable mate, though she doubted she could, and went home to her empty, cold bed.

They could talk, maybe tomorrow, if she deemed him worthy enough of her majestic presence.

Better than to make a fool of herself today.

"Mia? Let's go, my heart. We need to talk. Now." Though delivered gently, it was nevertheless a direct command from her king. His aura forced her to submit.

She did. Or her wolf did. The traitor.

So much for walking out of here alone.

Sighing heavily, she nodded stiffly. Mentally, she made an effort to collect herself for the confrontation.

Turning to him, facing him at last, she gasped audibly. No wonder the three witches were suddenly speechless and looking in amazement at the newcomer in their bakery.

Resting her gaze on his human form, her jaw dropped. Nothing could have prepared her for the man standing confidently before her despite his size.

For the first time in her life, MJ was silent. Astonished. Rooted where she stood. Every ounce of self-control vanished as soon as she faced the most gorgeously, sinfully sexy, sensually stunning, male specimen she had ever seen in her entire life.

Constantine Demonicus was utterly perfect. From head to toe, every inch in between. Devastatingly handsome in every way was not an ample enough description to do him justice.

His face, that of a fallen angel, could make her weep with its classically romantic, beautiful, angular features. Nose of a Roman god, perfectly proportioned on his face. Thickly defined brows, long thick lashes on a deep, heavy-lidded dark chocolate brown eyes. High cheekbones and square jaw. Lips so rich red and suckable. And a goddamn clef chin to boot. Her tongue licking that spot would be good on him.

And those dark, long, lustrous hair tamed in a man bun, untamed wisps, covering his ears, down to his nape made her fingers itch to run through them.

Oh, goddess! Why me?

Freakishly broad and tall. Wide shoulders. Those biceps and barreled chest, washboard abs barely contained by his blue cotton shirt. Long muscular legs encased in tight Levis, down to his big feet in black lofters. His casual ensemble was effortless.