Chapter Twenty Four

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Chapter Twenty Four

Jackson Blake's POV

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Jackson Blake's POV

I felt like a scolded child. Slater had that effect. How was I in the wrong in this situation? I'm not. My arm had been bandaged up and I was given antibiotics in case I got an infection but after an hour the wound had healed itself. As I lay in Slater's bed, I was angry. Even if his scent was doing everything it could to relax me, I was furious.

The door clicked open, I could tell it was Slater by the intensity in the air, but my body is facing away from the door, unable to see his cold, calculating face. I could hear him take off his shirt and pants before sitting on the edge of the bed. I sat up, peering over to his muscly, naked back, and usually, it would distract me, but I had so much pent-up frustration I felt like I was going to explode.

"Look at me," I growl at him, his muscles tense, not expecting my tone, probably not expecting me to talk at all. As he readjusted his position to look at me, his tense glare met mine and I knew taking this tone with him was only going to get me in trouble. "When I came back here, I came back because I want to be happy. Five minutes with you makes me happier than I've been in my entire life. I came back for me, not for you and if you carry on the way you are, I swear to fucking god I'll leave faster than you can say goodbye. So you listen to what I have to fucking say and you listen carefully. You don't get the fucking right to speak to me the way you did in that office. You're the one who won't tell people I'm your mate, you. If you expect me to put up with people calling me your bitch, you have have to deal with the fucking consequences when my wolf doesn't take it. Am I fucking clear? Because I was attacked by your Beta today, not because of my choices, but because I hold your mark and you didn't tell him the real reason why. Hell, you didn't even tell me he was your fucking Beta," I spat out each word in a firm and forceful tone, like venom spraying from a snake. It was by far the angriest I'd ever been with him.

His eyes were dark and menacing, you could see he despised being told off. He's the one who does the telling off, he doesn't sit there and let others mouth off to him. He pulled up his body and straddles my waist, his lower-half pressing into my lap as he pins me to the bed.

I thought he was going to yell or threaten me and honestly, if he had, I might have considered leaving him. Instead, he pushes his face closer to mine, his hot breath glides along my face as his eyes peer deeply into mine. "But you are my bitch," he mutters, a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes and a cheeky smirk across his face. He presses his lips on mine and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. At that moment my anger fizzled away. I wasn't upset about it either, I'd said my peace and there wasn't much more I could do. I could stay angry, and I probably would later on, but right now I was in heaven. Besides, call me whatever but I was taking it as progress, the fact that he didn't get angry, storm out, or punch me. That was progress by Slater's standards.

His lips were frantic against mine. It was forceful and teasing. When he kisses me lovingly, it always satisfies me, but when it's lustful like this, I ache for more. He growls against my lips in frustration and I know it's because he wants my clothes off. What's stopping him? He's hesitant because he thinks my wolf will take over and mark him. He pulls his lips from mine and rests his forehead on mine, groaning in annoyance. I could feel his hard shaft against me and I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me.

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