f**k it. Inwardly, I growled. I had to regain control. This wasn’t the time for my c**k to—
“She?” I asked, confused, pulling myself together enough to pick up on that one word.
My mother turned and pointed. At her.
Long brown hair was coiled around her shoulders like the finest silk. Her eyes were large, a deep color that looked like sun-dried honey. Her lips were pink, and full. Ripe for kissing. And her gaze, when it locked on mine, was defiant. Rebellious.
My body, my mind, everything became consumed with one word. Mine. All I could think, all my brain, my body could consider was mine. Mine. MINE.
My mother stood between us, blocking my path to the female I was meant to claim, to f**k. And she was talking. Why was she still talking? “Yes, son, it was one of the maids. It was obvio
