FOR SOME DAYS, Rhys and I fell into a routine. I would wake up in his arms, he would hold me close like his life depended on it—well, it truly was—and then he would kiss me gently, pleasure me, and make me feel satisfied and content. And on those mornings, he did not once take care of himself. No. He did not force himself on me or ask if I could take care of him back. It was as if he only cared about my needs and my being. And me, being the stupid girl that I was, along with my weak wolf in her hiding, I could not, for the life of me, say no.
Even just thinking about rejecting that pleasure would make me feel like I killed myself. I took it. Everything. I took everything that Rhys was willing to give me because it was all I ever wanted.
And then he would wake up and get ready for the day
