Lycan Contempt by S. Yule (reading fiction TXT) 📕

curves rendered him speechless. She was different from the women he’d dated in the past, from the kind of women he thought he preferred.

He had been wrong about skinny women. They didn’t hold a candle to his Georgia. His Georgia.

Everything about her caled to him. Her green eyes.

Her ful, naturaly pouty lips. Her golden skin. He watched a water droplet run down the inside of one curvy thigh, and he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, yearning to folow that path with his mouth. But the direction he wanted to go was not down. It was up, up to the golden curls nestled between her thighs.

He ached to taste her, to breathe her essence deep into his lungs, to imprint an intimate part of her upon his soul for always.

Finaly, he realized he was scaring her and gave himself a mental slap. “Don’t be afraid.” She jumped, and he cursed under his breath.

“Kish, you scared me half to death. Why didn’t you answer me?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you took my words away for a moment. You are beautiful.” He wanted to touch her, kiss her, claim her, but he needed to show her something first. If she could accept him for what he realy was, then just maybe they had a shot, just maybe he could find a way to give her his heart, a heart he’d vowed to never give to another again. It was almost as if he had no choice with Georgia, though. He not only wanted her, but he needed her. Every time she was near, he felt whole, at peace, wanted . . . loved.

She blushed and he chuckled. “No need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” She lifted her chin in defiance.

He smiled. “Okay then. You’re not.”

She giggled. “Okay, I guess I was a little bit. I’m not used to men watching me while I shower.”

That was a sobering moment. He frowned and clenched his fists at the thought of another man seeing her naked. A serious rush of jealousy hit him hard.

“I should hope not because if I ever catch another man watching you shower . . . Wel, I can promise that it wouldn’t end wel for him.”

“Why are you watching me?”

“Seriously? Why wouldn’t I want to watch you?

You take my breath away.”

She blushed again. “You don’t strike me as the Peeping-Tom type, Kish. Is something wrong?

Lucy’s okay, isn’t she?”

“Yes. I gave her some fresh water and she’s curled up on the couch.”

“Thank you for taking care of her. But you aren’t fooling me. I can hear that something is wrong in your voice.”

“No.” Yes. He was about to show her the wolf, and if she freaked out, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He wanted her to accept him, al of him, and al of him included his wolf.

“Uh-huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

“I need to show you something.”

“Oookay.”

“I promise you there is no reason to be scared.”

“Wel, I wasn’t scared until you just said that.

Funny thing. When people say there is no reason to be scared, there is usualy a huge ass reason to be scared.”

He sighed. This was not going how he’d planned.

And how the fuck exactly did you plan it to go when you turned into a wolf for her the first time?

“Kish?”

He took her hand before he had time to think on it further and led her to the tub. “Sit here.”

She sat on the edge of the tub.

“This is one time when someone tels you not to be scared that there is honestly no reason to be scared.

Trust me. Okay?”

Georgia nodded slowly, but he could tel by the frown that tugged the corners of her lips down that she was worried.

He stepped back and let the wolf come to the surface. He let the change come slow this time. Hair sprang through every pore of his skin. Claws shot from his fingertips. Canines elongated. Muscles contorted and reshaped. He was so used to shifting he’d forgotten how painful it used to be at one time.

One time, long, long ago. Within moments, he went from standing in front of Georgia on two feet to staring at her from four paws.

He slowly walked to her. When he reached her side, he nudged the hand that rested next to her right thigh. She jumped, but didn’t make a sound or try to flee. She slowly reached toward him.

“Kish?”

She laid her hand, palm down, on his head. Her fingers instantly curled through his fur. He had a nearly overwhelming urge to lie down and rol over so she could scratch his bely.

“I told you not to be afraid.”

“How did you do that?”

“The talking or the shifting?”

“Um, I guess both.”

“We have to have some way of communicating in wolf form, and I told you I was a lycan. Or did you already forget that one?”

Georgia had never been so astonished in her life.

Yeah, Kish had told her he was a lycan, and she guessed on some level she believed him. But apparently, a bigger part of her hadn’t. The wild smel she’d never been able to fuly place now came out strong. He’d been teling the truth the whole time. He was a werewolf.

Her hand shook as she stroked his fur. He was huge. She was sure his back would come to her hip if she was standing. Emotions hit her from al directions.

Fear. Fascination. Amazement. Awe. Excitement.

Intimidation. But al of the emotions suddenly fused together and turned into curiosity. She realized at once she wasn’t scared of Kish or that he’d do anything to her. She was only apprehensive about the situation as a whole. After al, who wouldn’t be?

She kneeled down to the floor and took his head between her hands. She ran her fingers over his ears, face, nose, and laughed when he gave her a quick lick. He stood perfectly stil as she felt her way down his neck and along his body. The muscles on the wolf were much like the muscles on