Rebuffed

Raul had awoken when Olivera had stirred awake in her room. Her muted cry for help had resonated through the bond and had aroused him from the sleep that had been plagued by Olivera in his bed without clothes, writhing under him.

The boner-a constant feature in his life now-had died away when he had felt the terror that had swum over the mate bond. He had quickly donned a polo and a short for he usually slept naked, and ran out of the room. He had paused at the door for a second, to take a deep breath, not knowing what to expect in the room.

Olivera had kept lying to his face for the past two weeks, and after she had butted him out of her mind those weeks ago, he had resolved not to attempt it again, believing that she would open up to him when she was ready. But he didn’t think he could wait any longer. This time he would have to force his way through even if it meant being in her bad books for a while longer.

This was the third time she was waking up in terror the past two weeks