The Wolf and the Sheep Read online Penelope Sky (Wolf #1)

Categories Genre: Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wolf Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
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“He doesn’t know me well enough.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to take a compliment.”

His eyes narrowed on my face as his hand squeezed mine a little harder. “I don’t want to insult my wife on our wedding day, so I suggest you choose your words carefully.”

I smiled. “That’s romantic…”

“I’m not a romantic guy.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

He turned his gaze away and kept dancing. He seemed to tune me out, like I wasn’t even there.

“Why do you have such a poor opinion of yourself?”

“I don’t. I just understand what I am.”

“And why are you a bad man?”

“Do we need to have this conversation now?”

“Something else you want to talk about?” I countered.

“We could not talk at all.” His eyes scanned the people around us, hardly giving me any attention.

“Alright…” Just when I thought I could connect with him, he pushed me away.

He danced with me in silence, preferring the palpable tension to conversation.

“When the night is over, where will we go?”

“Inside. I had my men gather your things from your apartment. You can go back tomorrow and pick up whatever else you need. The banks will seize it soon, so I suggest you grab what’s important.”

When the night was over, the mansion looming over us would be my new home. “And my father?”

“He has a room made up for him. We’ll take him to the hospital tomorrow.”

Maverick may be my husband, but he didn’t have to take care of my father. He didn’t have to spend any money on him. But he seemed to shoulder the responsibility without argument. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.” If Maverick were more like his father, he would dump my father on the lawn and not think about him twice. The man did possess compassion; he just tried to brush it off like it was nothing.

He didn’t look at me, ignoring my gratitude.

It didn’t matter what kind of peace offering I made, Maverick never took the bait. Even if he had the chance to connect with me, he didn’t want to. He was determined to be as distant with me as possible, to not even allow friendship to blossom.

The song finally concluded, the torture coming to an end.

Maverick dropped his arm from my waist, like he couldn’t wait for the opportunity to walk away.

Then everyone clanked their forks against their glasses, the tradition that enticed the bride and groom to share a kiss.

Maverick hid his annoyance as he turned back to me, knowing we would have to share a few more kisses before the night was over. His arm moved back around my waist, and he pulled me into him again.

We couldn’t connect through conversation or friendship. We were charged the exact same way, our attitudes clashing together like two bolts of electricity. We would never see eye to eye on anything.

But there was chemistry when we touched—however faint it was.

He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me again, his full lips taking mine like last time. With the same precision, he took my mouth and made it his. His hand squeezed the back of my dress as he pulled me closer, making all the guests clap eagerly.

My hand pressed against his torso and felt the hardness of his body through his clothes. My fingers flinched when I came into contact with the hard wall, surprised by his unnatural strength. My hand slowly softened as I got used to his ripped physique, my breath filling his mouth as an unexpected jolt of desire fluttered through my body.

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes for a moment, like he knew exactly what I experienced when I touched him. But instead of making a smartass comment, he kept his thoughts to himself.

11

Maverick

The last guest didn’t leave until three in the morning.

The servants worked outside to clear the tables, silverware, and endless decorations that stretched across the property.

My maid took Arwen and her father to their rooms so I could go to the third floor and retire to my bedroom. I hadn’t expected the wedding to last for so long, but once people had wine in their bellies, they turned chatty and lingered.

I would have liked to have a woman in my bed tonight, but it was too late now and I was too tired. I stripped off my tie and draped it over the back of the armchair then let my jacket fall off my shoulders. My fingers popped open every single button until the collared shirt fell down my arms. My watch came next.

A knock sounded on my bedroom door.

I turned around to face the entryway, unsure why Abigail would disturb me at this hour. There was nothing so important that she needed to bother me right this moment. “Come in.”

The door cracked and then revealed Arwen, still in her wedding dress. With a sweetheart neckline and sleeves of lace, her dress was elegant but also formfitting. It highlighted her many curves, her plump tits, and narrow waist. Her hair was thicker than I’d ever seen it before, and she looked ready for a performance at the opera. Every person who watched her walk down the aisle thought she was stunning.


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