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Chapter 18

Meryn

Tasting Weston’s lips is dangerous. But being kissed by him and hearing him groan in a way that makes it obvious that he wants me is lethal. I don’t want to have sex with him. I want to wait to see who my mate is, but his tongue inside my mouth is irresistible.

He slides it over mine, pulls me closer, and allows me to place my hands on his wet, soapy chest that is ridiculously ripped. And I touch him because who wouldn’t? I’m not pretty or popular—I might never get a chance to touch a guy looking like Weston again, so I brush the digits of my thumbs over his nipples, and Weston yelps into my mouth.

Sullen eyes meet mine. “What did you do that for?” he asks in a grumpy voice. “I thought we were having a moment.”

I feel my cheeks burn in embarrassment, too aware of where my hands are resting. “I...uhh...sorry...I just really like your pecs and thought...you know...”

Weston frowns. “Had you been any other girl, I would have thrown you out,” he averts his eyes, and if I’m not mistak
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