Diana furrowed her brows.
"Get rid of it? How? Rid of what? I'm not understanding anything—"
"You don't need to understand anything." Ian traced the line of her jaw with his nose, down to her neck, and bit gently with his teeth, sharp and stinging.
"Ow! Ian, that hurts." She winced, gripping the lapels of his suit.
But she wasn't pushing him away. If anything, she was holding onto him, subconsciously drawing him closer.
What was he doing to her?
He grazed her chin again, this time on the other side. Her head lolled to the side as if willingly offering him real estate to work with.
Her breaths came in shaky bursts. "W-what are you doing?"
His hands slid to her hips. "Getting his damn disgusting smell off you."
He was scent-marking her. He couldn't mate-mark her—no, not without her consent. But scent-marking? That, he could do.
The human's scent.
It was vile.
