Free Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) by Isabelle Hemlock Page A

 

 
    So when I pushed myself off the bed, in order to move
closer to those perfect tits, I felt this tender feeling propelling me to just
take a rest.  For just a moment, to pause, and let her know how thankful I
am that she picked me.   That I will do everything in my
power for the rest of my life, to prove she was right.  I want to
compliment her, shower her with kisses, and give her so much pleasure she moans
my name.  But when my cheek is pressed against her heart, I can only close
my eyes, and sigh.  Instead, I ended up making it about myself.
 Because even now, I’m still so vulnerable, and all I actually get out, is
my own desperation to keep her at my side.  

 
    I feel like I’m fucking this up - instead of fucking her.
 I must sound like a whiny puppy at her feet.  And yet, for whatever
reason, she comforts me, even now.  When she pulls on my hair, to force me
to look at her, I’m not afraid.  She cares for me, I know it now, and she
doesn’t disappoint.  She tells me this is for life, it could be for life,
and at first, I feel like I could literally fly.
 But then I remember my mother, and my father, and how that wasn’t for
life.  My mother left not too long after I, and my brothers, were born.  

 
    Maybe right now, Riley wants forever, but can purebloods
really mix with halfbreeds ?  I fall back,
covering my eyes, because the moment we had has passed, and I’m not sure if my
heart can handle the reality of the answer I seek.  When I mutter my
reply, she leans forward, her hands dipping under my button up, and giving me goosebumps .  I don’t know what’s she trying to
accomplish, I must seem absolutely miserable, or just resolute that her desire
for me, is an itch to scratch, and nothing more.  

 
    “Avery,” her
voice sounds almost pleading, and I slowly lower my arm away from my face.
 As soon as I see her worried eyes, I immediately reach for her face.
 She leans her cheek into the palm of my hand, and it’s such a sweet
moment, that I almost forget . . . “Please,
tell me you feel it, too.  We are mates.”   I think a part of her
believes it, but I’m still not sure.  I want it to be, and the fact that
we seemed to have moved at lightspeed here, would make sense - but her comment still makes me
wonder if wolves mate for life.  If that was the case, why didn’t my mom
stick with my dad?  Or is it more like, werewolves mate for life, but only
other werewolves?

 
    But then, I’m brought out of my own thoughts, when I see
her eyes shift, because the glossiness from her passion has dissipated.
 Instead, replaced by the glossiness of tears threatening to pool along
the edges, and spill over.  And the realization that I’m about to make her cry, sends me into panic mode.  It feels like a
punch to my gut, but the pain doesn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around her,
and rolling us over, so I’m on top of her, “Riley,
no ssh darling.”  My same hand strokes her
cheek, pats her hair, and finally, I lower my face to hers so I can give her a
sweet, gentle kiss, “I want you, with
everything I am, with everything I can offer.  I just - “

 
    She bites her lip, bracing herself, as if she was right
all along to have those tears threatening to spill out.  I need to be
honest , “My mom didn’t stick around -
and I wonder if she thought she was mated to my Dad, too.  If she could
change her mind, why shouldn’t you be able, too?  It’s not that I don’t
want you baby, its that I want you so badly I’m scared
to death to take the plunge.  I’m just being a coward, but the answer is
yes, I feel it, too.  And I want to be your mate.  I want this, you,
me, us.   All of it.  All of you.”

 
    Those tears peek out from the corner of her eyes, but
she’s smiling, and I think they might be happy tears now.  Relived, I
don’t hesitate when her arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me down on top
of her.  Our kiss is heavy, and filled with