" She shoved me out of the bed! The realization hit him as hard as the floor. His feline grace failed him. Far from hanging its head in shame, his inner lion rolled in mirth, tufted tail practically wagging. Not funny.
Except it was. He had a feeling this more assertive side of Arabella was his fault. Since the moment they’d met, he’d encouraged her to not take any shit, and apparently she’d decided to start with him. Dammit. When he’d told her to not let the world stomp all over her, he should have specified his exemption.
I’m her mate. Isn’t there a rule that says she can’t kick me out of bed?
Except she’d yet to realize what he had. Was it only a day ago since his life changed? Not even. At this rate, he’d be picking out fucking China patterns by noon.
Completely emasculated and by a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.
Flipping to his knees, he sat up and rested his chin on the mattress.
Arabella faced him, eyes wary, breathing shallow as she waited for his reaction. More like she waited to see if he’d explode.
She’d learn.
Hayder would never harm her, but he would use his infamous kitty-cat eyes against her.
He stared. You know you want me. You know you need me. Come on, baby. Melt. Melt for your lion.
She stared right back.
Hmm, this wasn’t working as planned.
He let the left side of his lip curl into a grin, tugging his cheek and popping his infamous dimple.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“Trying to manipulate me into letting you back into bed.”
“Is it working?”
For a moment her expression shifted, a quick flip of emotions as she struggled to answer. “Yes it’s working. But I wish it wasn’t.”
“Why? Why fight it?”
“Because I think I need time.”
It turned out there was something more powerful than his dimple. Her honesty.
He groaned. “I think you were sent to kill me. Fine. If you insist, I’ll respect you even if I’d rather debauch you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Respect doesn’t mean I’m going to lie, baby. I want you. Bad. But I’ll listen to what you want. For now.”
And, yes, he said it ominously.
Let her think about it. Think about him. Soon even she wouldn’t be able to deny they were meant for each other.
He stood, all six foot plus naked feet of him.
And, yes, that did put a certain part of his anatomy in perfect view of a certain shocked gaze.
A sucked-in breath, cheeks that darkened, a certain awareness sizzling between them. She couldn’t hope to hide her pleasure or interest in what she saw.
“Sweet dreams, baby.” He winked and then turned, resisting an urge to catch her staring at his ass.
He knew she was. He could feel the crazy heat as she traced his path out of the room.
Go back. Want to snuggle. His lion couldn’t understand why they were back in the living room with its cramped couch that wouldn’t allow him to stretch out. Why couldn’t they snuggle in the nice warm bed and, even better, cuddle with a nice warm mate?
Respect, my furry friend. A lion had no use for respect though. His worldview was much simpler. Ours. Bed. Hungry. Not hungry for a steak but, rather, a sweet, creamy pie.
Hayder groaned. No need to keep reminding him of what he was missing. He knew. He hated it, but her wants had to take precedence over his.
Argh. "

― Eve Langlais , When a Beta Roars (A Lion's Pride, #2)