The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Forty–Two

す

い

no see a

dyson

y

of w

mo

Rage y

薬

of the net

薬薬

Two Hundred

think Delilah is beaitiful and that are not? Is that

speak at this

stare down at her, moaning inwardly at the way it feels when her silken hair falls over my left arm. “You need to understand something, Princess Delilah may be kinda cute and her sassy, flirty, little mouth might have gotten her a lot of attention back in your old high school, but…” I shake my head at her in wonder, my lips turning up in a half smile. “That’s all she is. And she does absolutely nothing for me.” My head lowers slightly and I pull her in a bit closer, shifting my hips into her so that she can feel the strength of my words in the hardness of my dick. She gasps, her eyelids fluttering as a low fire begins to burn in her eyes. “You though,” I start,

you

doesn’t register and her hand comes up, her fingers sifting

closing my eyes and pressing the side of my face into the warm flesh of her hand. “Fuck yes, baby,” I reply. “And you have no idea what it does to me to hear that I get to be your first…” I trail off, opening my eyes to study her face. I know all she asked for was a kiss, but I need her to see my meaning in my eyes. “It makes you even more mine than you

so innocent, Holy shit. I never asked how old she is, but I’m not even sure I care at this point. Fuck. What if she’s like seventeen? The thought is more than a bit sobering, but not enough that I move away from her. But no, wait a minute. Doc Rhodes told me she was eighteen and there’s no way he would have lied about that. “How old are you, Rose?” I ask, stroking one hand over her legs toward her rear and reveling in the feel of her rounded hips against my

before the last of the wine she drank glazes her eyes and her gaze darkens. “How old are you?” she asks bravely, reaching up with one arm to grab my shoulder as she

pink tongue dart out against her lips. My hand slides over the front of her

with pleasure.

wanted to wait until she knew what

to die.

whimpers, making it sound more like a prayer than

closer. “Can you promise me something?” I ask, stifling a groan as she shifts against me and her boobs push