Chapter 10 She can't resist
Celine's POV
He stood so close I knew he could hear the frantic rhythm of my heart. He stayed silent, listening like it was a language only he could understand — one that somehow existed between us, though I was illiterate in it.
My heart was just beating, nothing more. Yet his presence made every pulse stumble and rush, pressing against my ribs but never quite suffocating me. Strange, wasn’t it?
On the other hand, I might have prompted him to listen to it, doing nothing else.
His eyes crawled up from my feet to stop at my neck.
“Tris… Tristan.” I held my breath for a second, swallowing and forcing his name out.
He let our eyes lock.
And I could see myself in his pupils.
He still didn't speak, but I saw the weakness in his eyes. His weakness wasn't about his physical strength or his power as an Alpha. My senses told me it was all about me, and I doubted if I should believe that.
“Dear mate… You came here to meet me.” He finally let words out of his mouth.
I shook my head, but nodded immediately. What was I supposed to say to him?
I was drowning in confusion.
Was it that I cared about pleasing him? I didn't believe that. Why would I please a delusional werewolf who calls me his mate knowing fully well the troubles I’d incurred from werewolves like him?
Of course Colt put himself in the list of bad werewolves since he betrayed me.
“I noticed you were coming,” Tristan said, still putting up a calm voice to me. “Your sweet scent of pineapples give out your presence.”
“Oh.”
My eyes trailed down his skin. The cursed fur was not growing out, perhaps the growth went in break to give him a bit of relief. At least his head wouldn't be hurting such as when he was in my room, making the tough decision of not risking my life.
I touched the fingers of his right hand, raising them to the level of my waist.
“Oh sorry.” I lost hold of his hand. “I didn't mean to.”
I didn't realize what brought my attention to his fingers.
“Everything about me is yours,” he said.
He turned to look at the bed. Zara was there, seated, watching us, and I hadn't noticed. She stood up at Tristan's eyes, sluggishly walking out of the room, but glaring daggers at me.
When she was gone, Tristan sighed.
His eyes returned to me. “I had a dream about you.”
My eyebrows raised. “A dream about me?”
He nodded, gently pulled me inside the room, shutting the door behind me. But I was conscious of each step I took inside as I never could tell if my presence inside the room was my own doom.
I believed my doom also existed in him, but how did I know that?
Perhaps the instance of my parents’ death occurring in my mind each time I came close to him told me so. I felt the chill of their death clawing at me at each look at him. But it also seemed I was betraying my own thoughts.
“It wasn't long ago.” His voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
We stood so close that my boobs were starting to touch his chest. I didn't step back.
“Not long ago? And it's a dream about me?”
“Yes.” His hands walked up from my fingers to my upper arms.
I held my breath for another second before easing out. If only he realized the effect of his hands on me. If only he realized it was hard for me to summon control of myself.
“What's this dream? What is it about?”
His hands let go of me as he stepped back to sit on the bed. He avoided my gaze for a while, staring at the floor.
He shouldn't have stopped holding me.
But… shit! I already felt sticky between my legs. So fast?
“Celine?”
I jolted forward like I just woke up from a nightmare.
“Are you okay?” He narrowed his eyes on me.
“Yes. Yes I am.”
He shook his head, patting the bed for me to sit beside him. “Stay close so I ensure you're perfect.”
I obliged.
He made me fix my eyes on him.
“Concerning the dream I had…” He started. “I've decided I shouldn't tell you about it. Not now.”
“But you said this dream is about me.”
“Yes.” His fingers went through my hair. “It isn't good to learn about it at this time. It wouldn't help me, especially with all this resistance in your heart.”
These words only made me feel lost. Starting something to catch my interest and then stopping halfway was upsetting enough. It was worse since he did it like it was a normal thing to do.
“Dear mate,” he called me this name again. “Wouldn't it be nice if there was some sort of consummation of our bond?”
A consummation?
His fingers slid down my hair to go through the narrowness of my back. His fingers sent current and heat all through my body. I thought if stopping him, but my butt stuck to the bed.
“Isn't that so?” His voice deepened, causing every weakness I’d sensed in him to disappear.
“Hmm…” My teeth were tight against each other.
“I have just a few days before I reach the feral state.”
“You're… You're still going to become a feral werewolf.” My hands were touching his cheek. “I don't.” I was shaking my head. “I don't want you to become that.”
I said those words?
Everything was crazy with me. I shouldn't care so much about him. Not with the chaos and calmness that existed in him.
“You really do?” He smirked.
His fingers slipped between my thighs, tracing heat through the thin silk of my dress.
My thoughts scattered like glass. My legs trembled — maybe from fear, maybe from something I didn’t want to name.