Author: Lora Leigh
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/24075_2
He’d be damned if he’d let her—
“It’s my resignation from the Agency,” she told him, her tone soft but firm, determined.
She’d made her mind up. By God, she actually thought she’d made her mind up to leave him—to leave the Agency. That she could just walk away.
He stared at it, glared at it.
If he had his way it would burst into flames and the memory of it would dissipate along with the paper.
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“The hell you are.” Lifting his head, he directed that glare at her.
And she met it.
Not once did she flinch or look away. Not one time did she even pretend to acknowledge his dominance. Hell, she didn’t even consider it.
“The Agency isn’t going to work for me, Cullen—”
“Because I don’t let you run it?” he snapped. “You don’t make the decisions there, girl. If you did, ‘Commander’ would be sitting in front of your name instead of mine.”
There were times, few though they had been, that standing firm would encourage her to back down. She had to back down on this.
She nodded sharply. “Agreed. But I never wanted to run it. I just wanted to be a part of it, not a glorified running girl for you and the other agents. That’s not happening, so it’s time I leave.”
His jaw tightened with a surge of anger at once confusing and filled with frustration.
“You won’t give it time,” he began, his back teeth grinding.
“I don’t have any more time to give it, Cullen.” Her lips tilted in remorse as she lifted one hand out to him before dropping it just as quickly. “It’s just time, okay?”
“Time for what?” He stepped closer, though she chose that moment to look away from him, unaware he was coming closer, that his refusal to accept this was about to get up close and personal.
“Grandfather agrees it’s time I go. That I find my own way . . . Cullen?” She turned back, her gaze going first to where he was supposed to be, then to the shadow suddenly at her side.
“Cullen?” Breathless, a woman’s sound, one filled with surprise, a bit of shock and a hint of apprehension as he swung her around, pulling her against him, letting her feel the erection he had no intention of hiding from her any longer.
And damn her. Her lips parted; her eyes, like soft melted chocolate, stared up at him, widening, then turning slumberous as her breathing escalated, her breasts rising and falling faster as he held her to him.
What the hell was wrong with him?
That distant thought wasn’t enough to stop him, it w
asn’t enough to pull back, to free her and let her walk away. He’d known for years, far too many years that this was coming. And when it happened, letting her go wouldn’t be an option. All that wild independence and pure energy she possessed would have to be tamed. The thought of the danger she’d face otherwise was more than he could contemplate.
“This is why,” he snarled, his lips lowering to her ear, his own breathing harder, hunger driving a stake straight to his balls as he fought the need to take her then and there. To back her against the wall, get her hot and ready for him before taking her. He’d take her from behind, pushing inside the sweet heat between her thighs as his teeth gripped her neck—
They were already there, raking over the tender flesh at the bend of her neck and shoulder, gripping, releasing, his tongue laving the sharp bite. Her nails were gripping his shoulders, her head resting against his arm as he held her, the little cry that left her throat one of pleasure and shock. Sharp, sweet pleasure struck at his senses, the reaction so strong, so deep he felt it awaken something inside him that he knew he couldn’t allow free.
Something dark.
Something hungry—
“Fuck!” As quick as he’d pulled her to him, Cullen released her and all but jumped back from her.
God, the scent of her, the taste of her skin, so sweet and soft. Giving his head a hard shake and turning his back on her, he raked his fingers through his hair and fought to get a grip on himself.
Lust had never controlled him. He’d never let his hungers free like that, even during his marriage, before his wife’s painful death; he’d never felt that deep, dark hunger, like another presence coming alive inside him.
“God, Chelsea, I’m sorry.” What more could he say? He couldn’t explain it, even to himself.