Page 130 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

But he smoothed his hands up her arms. “If you think it’s unwise I’ll tell him to get lost.”

“You would?”

“Just say the word.”

She licked her lips, trying to buy some time while she dealt with the surprise of his response. “No one’s ever listened to me before.”

“They do now.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip, and desire flared in his gaze. “I listen to you, Haley Michaels Bennett. You’re the love of my life. My rescuer. My mate.” His gaze grew more intense, and his voice got husky. “My beautiful, beautiful wife.”

Heat pooled between her legs. “You’re going to make love to me, aren’t you.” She made it a statement. There was no need to ask when the answer was certain.

“It’s a full moon.”

She bit her lip. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“Definitely not.”

“You’ve seen to that.”

“Dozens of times, in lots of places.”

Memories flooded her, and her heart skipped a beat. “In the shower.”

“And the kitchen.”

“The closet.”

“Multiple closets.”

It was getting hard to speak. “You bent me over the dining room table.”

“I was just thinking about that.”

“Me too,” she said weakly. It was where he’d claimed her, sealing their mate bond. They spoke their vows at their wedding ceremony in his family’s ancestral home, surrounded by planters overflowing with roses. And they’d planned to take care of the rest of the ritual later that night when they were alone. Then they ended up sneaking away from the reception and kissing in the dining room. One thing led to another and her wedding dress was on the floor and Bard was behind her, his cock poised at her entrance while she sprawled face-down on the mahogany table, her panting breaths making little condensation marks on the wood.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice almost too low to understand.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He’d made sure of it. In the days after the showdown in the conservatory, he’d used his fingers and tongue to open and stretch her, preparing her for what was to come. Yet he hadn’t claimed her. “It’s special,” he’d said. “I want to save that for our wedding day.”

She’d started to protest. But then she remembered it was special for him, too, and that he might be just as nervous. He’d spent twenty years believing he was doomed to stay impotent forever. So she’d agreed to take things slow, letting him tease her and teasing him back.

The result was she was nearly mindless with lust, her sex throbbing as she widened her stance and tilted her ass up. “Please, Bard,” she said, uncaring how desperate she sounded. “Please.”

He drew his fangs down her neck, raising the tiniest line of blood. Then he nestled the tip of his cock inside her and eased in, whispering, “My life for yours.”

Her pussy clenched around him.

He licked the blood from her neck and seated himself to the hilt, his cock brushing her clit.

Just like that, she was off, her body exploding in a thousand pieces. When she drifted back to earth, he was there to catch her, his big hands stroking her sweaty hair away from her face as she shivered with aftershocks.

“Your turn, baby,” he murmured, putting his hand to her lips. He’d bitten the meaty part of his palm, and blood welled in the puncture marks.

She sucked at it, drawing a groan from him. With his essence in her mouth, she said, “My life for yours.”

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