Arabella Pov
‘You want him.’ Misty whimpered in my mind as I nearly slammed my bedroom door and pressed my back against it.
The cold of the door was a welcome feeling to my warm skin, flushed from all the ways his fingers had touched it, the memory of his touch imprinted into my mind, and his scent lathered over every inch of me. It was like he had wanted to cover me in his pheromones on purpose, to make sure another man didn’t try to touch me again. I was trying to force myself to hate it. I should hate something like that. Being claimed as someone else's, being engulfed in pheromones without my permission. I should hate it, but I didn’t. And I hated that more than anything. “He’s my mate, of course I want him,” I whispered to the quiet inside my cold and lonely room.
It was too larg
