I paced back and forth in Egon's room. Though I had only been there for a few minutes, it felt like hours had passed.
The sun began to set and the light that filtered in through the windows were casting long shadows that seemed to dance with my restless movements.
I took a deep breath, hoping to calm the turmoil within me. But no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept drifting back to Egon. His commanding presence, his raw, masculine energy.
My uncontrolled mind made the throbbing ache between my legs only more intense.
In a futile attempt to distract myself, I reached for a random book on Egon's desk. My eyes scanned the pages, but after reading the same few sentences over and over without absorbing a single word, I shoved the book aside with a frustrated sigh.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and I jumped to my feet.
Egon walked in. His body was free of the blood that had stained him earlier, but he was still shirtless.
My heart skipped a beat. Great, this was definitely not going to help calm me down.
My eyes followed the sculpted lines of his chest, tracing every defined muscle until my gaze reached his face.
A smug grin played on his lips, but his eyes were dark and intense, just like they were back in the arena.
"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice coming out huskier than I intended. I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. I had to remind myself to reign in my wild thoughts. There were more important matters to focus on.
"Just a few minor scratches, nothing that wouldn't heal quickly," he replied, his tone casual but his gaze unwavering.
"Good," I said, my voice still thick.
My eyes couldn't resist flicking back to his chest, where deep wounds inflicted by Silas had once marked his skin. Now, his torso looked smooth and perfect, like a sculpted masterpiece.
Egon caught me staring. "You like what you see, mate?"
His voice was rough, and when I met his eyes again, they seemed even darker than before. He moved towards me with deliberate, measured steps, stopping just inches away. He towered over me, his presence both overwhelming and comforting. I had to tilt my head back to keep looking into his eyes.
"You're an irresistible torment, mate," he murmured. "I want to do things with you that would probably be considered inappropriate in your world."
My breath quickened at the hunger in his gaze.
Egon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I can smell how much you want me," he said as he opened his eyes again, his voice a low growl. "You smell divine."
My cheeks flushed at his words.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, mate," he said softly.
He took another step forward, pressing his body fully against mine. I felt the hard, insistent press of his desire against my stomach.
"Can you feel how much I want you?"
The tension was unbearable, my pulsing needs clouding my thoughts. Without hesitation, I pressed into Egon and captured his lips in a heated kiss.
Egon's response was immediate, deepening the kiss with a passionate force that left me breathless.
His arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly as he carried me across the room. In a swift, fluid motion, we collided with the wall. Egon's arms, still securely around me, absorbed the impact.
YOU ARE READING
Shifters - The King of Wolves - Book 1
FantasyLiving in a human town, Esmara has little knowledge of the seven kinds of shifters who rule the world outside of her safe walls. The horrific rumours and tales she hears from visiting travellers are enough to keep her satisfied with her simple and q...