Eat You Alive: A Dark College Bully Romance (Court Legacy Book 4) by Eden O'Neill

Author:Eden O'Neill [O'Neill, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Fawn

Goddammit…

He was gorgeous.

The sheets cinched at Wolf’s chiseled waist, his broad chest moving in and out with each breath. He’d fallen asleep, and I fingered his curls.

I guess you really aren’t a god.

As far as I knew, gods didn’t sleep, but what did I know about gods?

Absolutely nothing.

Wolf had a hand on his abs, his other arm around me. He had me hooked to him, tight, and when he eased in a short breath, my fingers stilled.

He dampened his lips. A sigh escaped them, but soon, he fell right back into steady slumber. My fingers played again, but the unease didn’t leave me. I was quite sure he was only letting me play with his feathered locks because he was sleeping. I’d tried to touch them while we were having sex, but he hadn’t let me do that long.

He hadn’t let me do a lot of things.

This guy still had me scared of him and for good reason. When he’d brought me in here, I hadn’t known what was about to happen.

Wolf shifted.

His muscled arm slid from beneath my neck, and I sighed. I missed the heat immediately like an idiot and missed his hold even more.

I watched with my stupid foolish heart when he gave me his back, but my fascination soon transferred to that. His back was perfect like the rest of him, but that wasn’t what stole my attention.

My hand hovered over a line of colorful tattoos, dark, vibrant. A constellation design tatted directly down his spinal cord, and I realized I’d never actually seen his back in full. He’d been wearing that harness before, and the wings covered his spine.

God, he really is gorgeous.

His back was a work of art, the line of planets only enhancing it. Tight, muscular planes moved perfectly beneath tanned skin, this guy a canvas. He’d said he was an artist, and the intricacy of the planets, the beauty…

I wonder if he drew this.

A thick black line tied them all together, and I had to admit I’d snap-judged the asshole. I figured he was just a vapid jock, and he hadn’t given me a lot to work with in the past. I definitely didn’t think he respected anything regarding any kind of art, but his back piece was telling me something different. If he was an artist, some deliberate thought had gone into this piece. Regardless if he rendered it himself.

And it was lovely.

Putting my arm under my head, I simply stared at it, analyzing every line. I admired it from my own creative brain. I crafted stories through photos, its own art form. Dad had taught me so much about the artistic side of it. The process wasn’t just about snapping photos. There was craft to it, art just like what was in front of my eyes now.

I peered down Wolf’s spine, going up, down. I thought I’d analyzed every inch of the piece until something caught my eye right in the middle.

His skin bubbled up a bit, and upon further

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