Mated to the Moon (Portal City Protectors Book 6), Georgette Clair [best classic books to read .TXT] 📗

Fabiana turned and raced to the entrance to the Temple. Adonis stood with his legs apart and hands in his pockets with three wolves kneeling before him, each with a man standing at their backs, guns pointed at their heads.

“You touched what is mine. You hurt what is mine,” Adonis hissed.

“What are you talking about?” Vince bellowed. “We don’t even come to your lands.”

Adonis took a step forward. “Your name?”

“Vince.” The dark-haired wolf scoffed. “Dominic is going to ruin you and that little bitch Pasquale for taking us.”

“Ah, but you’d be wrong. You see, when you touched my mate, you became my problem. Dominic or Pasquale won’t save you.”

“Your mate?”

Cole. Fabiana didn’t even need to look at the blond man to know his cold, blue eyes were trained on Adonis with malice as he spoke.

Cole had always been the cruelest.

“Open your mouth wider; it’ll only hurt worse.”

She still wore the suit blocking her scent, but something must have alerted Adonis because he looked back at her. “What did Vince do to you? Did he touch you with these?”

Adonis bent forward, still looking at her, and squeezed Vince’s hands. The wolf screamed as bones crunched and his fingers twisted in the wrong directions.

“Or maybe … this?”

Adonis was fast and ruthless as he punched Vince between the legs, sending the wolf sprawling with a cry.

“Tell me, pequeña, so I can destroy it.”

“Please,” she whispered, her throat aching with unshed tears. Don’t do this.

“When they hit, I hit back harder.” Adonis took the gun from the nearest man and emptied the clip into Vince’s body before stepping to the next.

Blood splattered his face, but he didn’t care.

“What’s your name?”

“Please,” Cole begged. “We did what we were told.”

“No man should ever touch what doesn’t belong to him. Never should ignore the word no. Let me show you what that looks like when they do.”

“Adonis!” Fabiana cried.

But he didn’t stop. The worst part wasn’t the violence or their screams. It wasn’t the way they begged and pleaded for mercy. None of that made her blood run cold.

Not like his smile did.

He enjoyed hurting them.

He reveled in how they were so weak in the presence of a strength like his.

The Temple and what it stood for before this moment began to drift from her thoughts. Everything faded except for the knowledge he was not so different.

Fabiana didn’t look at him as she moved down the stairs and away from the Temple. Away from him. She only stopped for a moment at his side.

“You’re just like Primo,” she whispered. “You enjoyed their pain like they enjoyed mine.”

He let her leave, and the screams kept on.

She just sat on the stairs leading to the front door of the estate and pulled her knees up to her chest to hide her face. She heard Adonis approach but didn’t look up at him.

“Fabiana.”

“Don’t.”

Adonis sighed roughly. “They deserved what I did.”

“Where do you want me to go?”

This is what he wanted, right? Someone who bowed and listened to every order. She could do that and survive. She knew how to survive.

Instead of answering, he lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. She didn’t notice the décor, didn’t care to. He’d do what he needed to, and that would be it.

“I am not him, but you will have to pay attention to see that.”

Fabiana kept her face buried in his chest, his heartbeat oddly soothing in her turmoil. He took them through a room before opening several doors as he continued forward and upstairs. The directions were confusing, and she didn’t try to keep the sense of where they were. Eventually, he placed her on a bed.

“Yes, this is our room. Yes, you will sleep here beside me like you’re supposed to. No, I will not take you the way they did.”

She only nodded.

Adonis growled in frustration and ripped his shirt from his body. Peering at him through her lashes, her mouth went dry at his exposed chest and stomach. He should have been riddled with old scars and puckered flesh—they would have matched him—but he was smooth, golden perfection of lines and muscle.

He wasn’t overly defined, something she found pleasing, but enough so he had a V at his groin and a light dusting of hair that ran from his stomach to underneath his slacks. He had no tattoos like so many men chose to have, nothing identifying to mar the perfection of him. When he lifted his hands to his slacks, Fabiana pinched her eyes closed.

“Don’t stop looking, pequeña. See what now belongs to you.”

And she did. Goddess, but she opened her eyes. Slowly, he opened the button to his slacks and pushed them off his hips with his briefs and stepped out of the pool of fabric that had fallen to the floor.

The rest of him was as perfect as the top half. His legs were powerful but built leaner, like a runner ready to take off at any moment. Goddess, the man even had nice feet.

“Stop hiding.”

Okay, maybe she was.

She forced her gaze up to his cock. It hung between his legs, impressive, even in a relaxed state. No transition of skin color to be found, just a long shaft widening as it approached the broad head.

“Would you like to see it closer?”

Fabiana nodded before she could catch herself.

What was she doing?

Adonis still had blood on his face and on the backs of his hands. Fear shook her insides, but it warred with a fire deep inside she couldn’t stamp out.

She shouldn’t want him.

Shouldn’t crave him.

But I do.

He palmed his cock, stroking it lazily as he moved closer. It stiffened in his