The Unwanted Bride Of Atticus Fawn

Chapter 235

Book 3 Chapter 70

~DANTE~

“I’m taking you home,” I inform her.

She grabs my arms, stopping me from going anywhere. “No!” She gasps. “I can’t wait that long, Dante. I need you now. I need you to help me.”

I can’t. I can’t help her.

That would mean doing the one thing I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t want to take something so special from Willow when I wasn’t prepared to give myself fully to her.

“Willow,” I growl. “No. I can’t.”

She grabs my hair and stares straight into my eyes. “It hurts Dante. I need you to stop the pain.”

Her head hits the seat, and she screams. My heart doesn’t know how to handle her pain. What the hell was happening to me?

“What’s happening to me?” She cries. “Why is it so painful?”

I had to do something, anything, to make the pain easier for her.

I took her into my arms and carried her into the truck’s backseat. I sat down and pulled her on top of me.

“Dante?” she cries. I swallow at the confusion in her eyes. She knew nothing about this. If she’d known, she would have had a completely different reaction.

“You’re going into heat.” I try to explain to her.

“What does that mean?” She gasps. I could feel her tears against my chest, making me growl. I didn’t like her crying; I didn’t like seeing her in any kind of pain. I wanted to do anything possible to ease that pain, but I wasn’t ready for this. Not in the least.

my seed inside you, you’ll be

as my words

“W-what?”

teach her anything about werewolves or witches. Maybe that’s why I’d never seen her do anything like her

f**k you over and over again. Multiple times until your body stops hurting

eyes are wide with

that I wouldn’t do that to her. Not until I was sure that I was worthy of being inside her. It wasn’t time. But I never expected this to happen to Willow. In all my years of being with Anya, she’s

didn’t know how to deny her what she clearly needed from me. I’d run from it long enough; now, there was

Dante. You have to. I can’t take this pain. It’s too much for me. I’m in so much pain. Please, do this for

face with both hands. “I can’t do this to you. I can’t. You

in love with a man who loves my sister. I’m jealous of my dead sister, who has done nothing but love me. I’m not a saint. I

to you, Willow,”

she cries, and

f**k. f**k. f**k.

and pulls it out. It’s in her hands now, and damn it; it’s the hottest thing I’d ever

f*****g d**k in her hands was unlike anything I’d ever had the pleasure of

mouth when she tries

anything underneath?” I demand. She was bare

touches her opening, and I wince at how good it

Motherfucker.

“Fuck—ah. Stop.” I groan.

to make