The Golden Line (Knotted 1) - Page 46

It wasn’t only the starscape glimmering from the view portal that had her attention, it was the fact that her new mate had walked away.

As Heidron of a prime fleet, as a seasoned warrior with many conquests under his belt, Simin was unaccustomed to feeling lacking. Women threw themselves at him, he’d laid with hundreds and took great pride in his proficiency with female pleasure.

His body was large, muscular, pleasing. He didn’t have the finest features, but endurance, patience, even in tactical skills he was wiser than even the eldest of his brothers. Favored by his mother for his humor.

Yet his kor’yr, the Omega his soul resonated for, did not wish to be near him.

She did not recognize him…

Scowling at the meat he folded around seasoned paste, he growled. From the corner of his eye, even with her all the way across the room, his mate jumped. And once again the air went sour with female fear.

This was not right.

She might not understand his words, but intention could be communicated.

Nothing was unsalvageable, especially between and Alpha and Omega so deeply connected. Careful of his tone, but lacking the charisma of a sweeter man, Simin’s deep voice carried over the room. “To be the mate of Heidron is a great honor. Every soldier in my fleet would lay down his life for yours. You have nothing to fear in my presence. I won’t correct you with a cane.”

Watching him, infinitely wary, his Morgaine blinked, rubbed her lips together and nodded as if trying to please him. But once her eyes fell on the food in his hands, she shot from her seat and rushed forward.

Hands coated in the raw juices of fine bolx meat, fingernails smeared with paste, he didn’t stop her. In fact, Simin didn’t know what to make of her frantic expression when she saw that he was preparing them food. Hunger had not draw her to him.

Terror had.

Reaching for meat, she looked at the slices he had already prepared and mimicked the simple preparation so quickly the plate was full, messy, and complete before he knew how to react. She then pushed it closer to him.

Was she offering him the food he had chosen for her?

She was, and blue eyes frantic as if she’d done wrong in sitting while he worked.

“It’s for you. Alphas serve their mates before they serve themselves.”

She pushed the plate again, eyeing the mess of her work as if she knew she could have done better. Cringing as if she expected to be punished.

Careful to choose one she had made, Simin lifted it up and nodded confused approval.

Morgaine smiled, a tight practiced movement that did not reach her eyes. A smile that fell off her lips when he held out the bite for her to eat from his hand. She didn’t so much as sniff it, probably didn’t even taste it, avoiding his fingers to take it into her mouth and swallow without chewing.

And then she mirrored what he’d done, speaking her fluid tongue as if profusely apologizing as she held up a bite of the delicacy for him.

Wrapping her wrist in his much larger hand, he plucked the treat from her fingers and returned it to the plate. Then he escorted her back to the best seat, took it for himself, and patted his knee so she might join him.

Expression blank, she stiffly obeyed, her slick-drenched pussy smearing sweet fluid over his hard thigh. He pulled her close when it grew painfully obvious she was going to try to balance herself like a perched bird instead of fitting herself to him. The arm he hung around her, the light stroking of her skin, didn’t soften her ramrod spine, nor did it earn so much as a hum of approval from the woman.

His purr increased, his body pliant.

Patience was imperative to battle strategy. Before so much as a drop of blood was shed, the enemy was to be studied, their patterns analyzed, their psyche broken down into its basic parts and used against them. Though he’d never had to woo a woman to gain her attention, his course would be no different than planning war.

All wars he waged he won.

Taming his Omega would be no different.

Simin gave her time to find a comfortable position as his purr softened her tension, a gentle stroke caressing her arm. And then he fed her, slowly. Offering only enough that she’d have to bite off manageable pieces, cooing nonsense words of encouragement—vibrating with pleased groans when her tongue caught his fingers. But each time she tried to lift a piece for him, he took it from her and put it back on the plate.

There could be reciprocation in the future once she knew him better and understood his intrinsic craving to care for her. Once she was at peace in his presence and in love with his heart.

There would be love.

And children who would please his mother and even make his dour father crack a smirk when he thought no one was looking.

Tags: Addison Cain Knotted Paranormal
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