"Bold of you to assume that I'll let your mouth anywhere near me after you did such a poor job the first time around," Damon said dryly. "There are more ways than one your mouth could be used. I might not care for dipping my dick into soiled trash but the same couldn't be said for the unmated wolves of the pack."
Lydia's face blanched at the thought of being used like a public urinal, but she didn't say anything. All she could do was send death glares at Damon; if looks could kill, he would already be six feet under like she nearly was.
"These men were chosen for me by the Moon Goddess," I retorted calmly, even as my fingers dug crescents into the soft flesh of my palms. Damon and Blaise weren't shining examples of morality, but they were my mates. "You know there is no denying the mate bond."