One Bite ✓

[7] - Losing Control

[7] 

Losing Control

Adam

I think...

I think I'm in love.

After making love to Rory – on the fucking couch, though, Adam, you dumbass – we'd showered – separately, unfortunately – but then he'd pulled me into his room, and we'd cuddled in his bed until the next morning, where I'd woken him up with kisses and we'd lazily ground our hips together until we both came. Fuck, just thinking about it made my heart feel like it was ten sizes too big, my lower belly cramping with arousal.

The next day, I'd taken him ice-skating. The day after that, we went to Nandos – I couldn't forget his favourite restaurant – for dinner. And then on the third day after, we watched another movie and ended it with ice-cream and had a long, romantic walk in the park. The fourth day from that we spent it at home, doing some work together and then playing video games like some couple in a chick flick movie.

Rory was like a completely different person. If I'd thought we were borderline flirting before, we sounded like a fucking married couple now. And the way he was so open now compared to his freak out after our first date, and his closed-up expression after, it made me fall in love with him a bit more.

Oh fuck, I was in love. I was so fucking in love, what the fuck.

I made it my duty to take things as slow as possible, wanting to experience every single second of falling in love with him in high definition, even though my wolf was screaming bloody murder. The primitive instincts of my wolf – Jack's words, not mine – rose higher each day and I knew it was only a matter of time before, according to Jack, I would want to tear out my skin from the itch to claim him.

But I didn't care, I was willing to go through the pain or whatever. I really didn't want to rush this. I was loving this – loving him.

But the full moon was only four days away, and I could already feel the effects of it as it pulled my wolf. After that night and the morning after, we hadn't really had sex again. We'd kissed a lot, but that was about it. And because of this, I could barely sleep, and my right hand was becoming my best friend. Hell, right now, all it took was Rory's heady scent wafting into my nostrils and I was about ready to fucking blow my load all over myself.

And for some reason, I was feeling so hot and sick, like I had a horrible fever, and Jack informed me it was as a result of my first change coming soon, and it would happen only this first time. It was sort of like me hitting puberty – werewolf style – and I hated it.

I just wanted to get over the first change and move on with my life. Also, the urge to mark Rory as mine was nearly staggering. I couldn't be in the same room with him without bruising my lips with my teeth and clenching dents into my palms with my fingernails just to prevent myself from doing it. I wasn't going to do it until he knew about my being a werewolf.

This brought me to the reason why I was staring fearfully at Rory across the cafeteria, my heart beating a wild beat in my chest.

I had to tell him. I knew I had to – I didn't want to go any further into our relationship without telling him. He had to know. I knew I could live with the thought of this itch underneath my skin, this constant sickness and desperation from my wolf – try as it might, I was still human and that part of me wasn't going to suddenly turn into an animal overnight – I knew I was ready to live out the rest of my life ignoring my wolf if I had to, because I wanted Rory to be happy.