I jumped up and pressed a kiss to his mouth, just a soft, close-mouthed one, but it stopped his words more effectively than anything else I could come up with.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I repeated, with added emphasis. He stopped where he was, staring down with a slight frown but listening now. “You’re…hot. I guess there’s no other way of putting that, and I can see why Crystal was so desperate to keep you. You’re the sweetest of your brothers”—he made a rude sound at that— “and only a dickhead would see that as anything other than a gift. You care, quite a lot, I’m guessing.”
A very brief nod—that was all the acknowledgement I got, but I’d take it.
“And for some reason, you feel less than your brothers, even though I can’t see any evidence of that. You’re smart—smart is sexy.”
“Where the hell were you when I was at school?” he muttered, then shot me a searing look. “I don’t think any of the girls ever said anything like that.”
“Other girls don’t matter, do they?” He shook his head earnestly. “I think smart is hot. What the fuck is hotter than strength, than competence, than someone who can get shit done?”
“Except I couldn’t, not until you stepped in.”
“Yes, you did. You built software, led a team, and got them to adopt your operating procedure successfully—that’s a tale of success. If your brothers are too fucking hidebound to realise that…well, that’s on them, not you.”
“This is how I know you’re our mate.” He picked up my hand and set it over his heart. “The rational part of me wants to deny such shit exists, even if my wolf is howling at me to claim you, bite you, and make you mine, but you’re perfect.” I flinched at that, masking the response as much as I could. “Perfect for me.”
I’d just said the fact he was smart was hot, but I was regretting that now, because it meant he was putting two and two together, catching that tiny response and making connections I didn’t want him to see.
“Is that what it was?” I was turned around again, back to face that damn mirror, and I saw the fear and the pain now, writ large across my face. “Is this the problem?”
He stood behind me, just like before, but now he was a presence by my side, a warm, supportive one. The backs of his fingers traced the line of my shoulders and arms, and physically, I shivered at the feel of my mate touching me, but the little girl that still sat sobbing in her room at the crap her mother said, she wanted to pull the fuck away, yank my body out of his grip before he pushed it away.
“Sage…”
He’d said my voice over and over since we got on the plane, but never as softly as this. Then, just as I had, his fingers went to the buttons on my blouse, my spine tightening as each one popped open.
“Max…” My hand went up, grabbing his once he got several down, and he gripped it and gave it a squeeze.
“You can’t see her, can you?” His lips found my neck, his fangs raking across the skin, and some part of me wanted them to sink in. As if in response to that, he sucked a mouthful in, leaving a pink spot behind. “You don’t see my mate.” His eyes opened again, catching mine in the mirror and forcing me to stare him down. “I don’t know what it is you’re seeing…” Right then, I wanted to tell him, to spill all of the toxic shit I carried around everywhere, to just get it out, but I didn’t. I couldn’t do that to him. “But it’s not what I see.”
His hand was thrust into my blouse, covering the mound of my sensible bra, then squeezing what he found there.
“You’re so soft, so beautiful—”
“You were fucking a supermodel wannabe only a few days ago.” Shit, where had that come from? My jaw firmed at that, and I stared back mulishly before grabbing his hand and pushing it away. “How can you say that to me?”
He just slid it back, though, slowly enough that I could push him away, but I didn’t, feeling the moment he exhaled against me.
“Because it’s true,” he said.
31
“Sage, let me show you.” His fingers feathered across my skin. “Let me show you what I see.”
He waited for me to answer, taking in the trembling line of my jaw, the burning look in my silver eyes, but paused, waiting for my permission. All I could do was nod, just a slight bending of my tense neck, and that was where he started.
“You think this is only chemical.” His nose trailed along my neck. “And that’s part of it. Your scent tells me you’re mine, that you’re the one I need to pump my seed into.” His hand slid down, settling on my stomach, which had me sucking a breath in. “My wolf wants to see you swollen with my children.” He blinked and then stared back at me with hypnotic silver eyes. “Mated, bitten, locked down, and made mine in every fucking way.”
His eyes fluttered then, Max coming back to the fore, as I found the urge to shift his hand away.
Even amongst plus-sized women, there seemed to be a hierarchy. You could be used in specialised fashion shoots or thirst traps if you had that flat stomached, peach arsed, thick thighed body that transformed you from plus-sized to thicc.
That wasn’t me.
I felt like I was an apple, swollen and round in the middle, with big tits perched on top of a gut I just didn’t want him to touch anymore.
“This freaks you out,” he said, drawing his hand upwards. “You don’t want me touching you there.”