Page 16 of Dutiful Wolf's Mail Order Mate

This claiming was born of necessity, not choice. A part of me thrilled at the thought of making her mine, of keeping her safe. But another part, the rational, human part, knew the guilt that would come with it. The knowledge that I’d had a part in forcing her hand.

The choice was stark: let Bowen have her or fight for what was right.

There was only one path forward. Only one my wolf would allow.

Because I wasn’t afraid of what happened when the bloodless options failed. I would kill to protect what was mine.

Madison was mine.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. I accept.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

MADDY

“Okay,” Rafe repeated.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Rafe was too close, his warmth and strength wrapping around me like a blanket. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to trace the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. My wolf whined, pawing at my insides, desperate for me to close the gap between us.

But I stared into the amber depths of my drink, watching the light fracture off the cut crystal. My future distilled into this moment. A claiming in desperation, but not without desire.

I wondered what we could have been under normal circumstances.

“Right.” Rafe’s voice was low and rough, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine. He cleared his throat. “I can claim you with a bite now, if you’re ready. Or later, if you’d prefer.”

My eyes snapped to his. His words aimed for nonchalance, but I caught the undercurrent of a growl, the tension coiling in his muscles.

I inhaled sharply, the air heavy with the scent of him—pine and leather and raw, masculine heat. A thrill of anticipation zinged through me. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on me, his skin on mine.

“No use waiting for cold feet.” I tried for a casual shrug, but the gesture felt clumsy.

Rafe’s gaze darkened. He reached out, taking the half-empty glass from my trembling fingers. For a moment, our hands lingered together, sparks of heat tingling across my palm. Then he set both glasses on the desk with a thump and turned back to me.

The air charged, electrified, as we stared at each other. I tilted my chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. A challenge.

An invitation.

His hand cupped my jaw, callused fingers grazing my pulse point. My breath caught as he leaned down, bringing his face mere inches from mine. I could smell the lingering traces of whiskey on his breath mingled with the warm, woodsy scent of his skin.

“Last chance, little wolf,” he murmured, equal parts warning and promise. “Are you sure?”

No. Yes. I didn’t know anymore. All I knew was the heat of his skin on mine, the primal need thrumming through my veins, the incessant urge of my wolf to press closer.

His breath ghosted down my neck as I pressed my palms to his chest. The wall of his muscled chest rippled and flexed under the thin t-shirt. His lips pressed a hot kiss to the crook of my neck, the spot he’d claim me, and?—

“Wait!”

Rafe froze, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on my hip. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, brows shooting together in concern.

I swallowed hard, gathering my scattered thoughts. “We should do this the right way. Just biting me won’t be enough to convince Bowen.”

My cheeks flamed, and I looked away. Fucking hell, this was ridiculous. I didn’t know how to have this conversation.

“If we’re going to sell this, we need to make it believable. Irrefutable.” I winced inwardly as the words tumbled out in a messy pile. “We need to consummate the claiming. Properly.”

I risked a glance up at Rafe. He was staring at me, his eyes burning with hunger. With deliberate slowness, he stepped between my thighs and settled warm palms on my hips. The weight of them sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, and I instinctively arched into his touch. He let out a low rumble of approval and tugged me to the edge of the desk, his strong body pressed flush against mine.

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