Her body was calling to him—those thick thighs begging to be spread, that soft stomach perfect for pressing down into the mattress while he mounted her from behind, those heavy tits made for grabbing while he pounded into her until she screamed.
He could do it. Right now.
She was unconscious. Defenseless. Her body was already primed—pussy soaked, nipples hard, skin flushed with arousal she'd never admit to.
It would be so easy to peel those panties down, spread her legs, and 'breed' her. Mate press that thick body into the cushion of the bed and ravage her until she woke up mid-orgasm, confused and overwhelmed and completely 'his'.
Raven's jaw clenched.
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
Then he turned away.
He grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled it up over her body, covering her from chest to toe like he was tucking in a child.
Not because he was noble. Not because he gave a shit about consent in the traditional sense.
