Page 92 of Ruthless Moon

“What the fuck does that mean?” Aiden’s face is like a storm cloud before a tornado drops out of it—dark, unpredictable, and so very lethal.

“It means the EuropeanMathairswill come for us all. And even the New England court will do most anything to avoid that. Which means eliminating all traces of Lawrence and Talia.”

I squeeze Liam’s hand harder.

He pulls me into his lap and wraps his big arms around me, making me feel safe and protected. He buries his face in my neck and places a kiss on the side of my neck. “We’re gonna figure this out together, love. But you’re safe with me. With your family.”

My family.

I snuggle into his chest deeper, reveling in this man’s overwhelming love and protection and respect. I can feel it all, but his words of reassurance mean everything. And I believe him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Scream My Name

LIAM O’CONNOR

We’re back in the little travelers’ cottage. The meeting with her brother isn’t until late tonight. It’s just me and Gen and a really soft bed for the rest of the day. I want to bury myself in her. Worship her body. Feel the way her soul dances with mine through our bond.

The fire is blazing and Gen stands next to the hearth, the warm orange light from the flames bathing her in a magickal glow.

She’s so beautiful.

So perfect.

She’s everything I ever wanted and she’s mine.

I rub fingers over the marks on my wrists, still shocked they’re there. Shocked that I have her. Shocked that I didn’t lose her. Shocked that she’s standing across the room from me looking—hungry. And not the food kind of hungry.

My cock jumps to attention, hardening in an instant.

She wants me.

We’re bonded. I feel the want. See it like it’s mine. Feel it like her hormones are rushing through my blood. It’s heady and if I thought I had an obsession with her before we were bonded, it doesn’t even compare to the all-encompassing devotion I have now.

I smell her sweet scent mixed with the sharp edge of the wood burning in the fireplace. She’s not speaking, just making these small humming noises in her throat.

My pulse hammers in my ears.

I close the distance between us with two steps, cupping her face, brushing my thumbs over her soft lips, then across her cheekbones.

And then I’m kissing her. But not all at once. Slowly. Methodically. Savoring every tiny moan and hum and response from her body.

Her tongue meets mine and I growl into her mouth. Her breathing speeds up. I can feel and hear her pulse racing too.

She’s so soft against me. All perfect curves and smooth skin. Legs for days and luscious hair I want to wrap around my hand and pull just enough to make her moan. Iwillmake her moan. I will make her scream my name until she’s so tired she sleeps in my arms, blissfully unaware of all the trouble that waits for us outside the court.

Right now all I want her to feel is my love and adoration and gratefulness that I have her. That we’re together.

My wolf growls in my chest and I deepen the kiss. Doing exactly what I want. Drinking her down like she’s the last bottle of water in the desert. Just like I imagined, I wrap my hand in her hair and I pull, gently at first.

She responds beautifully, curving her body into mine. We fit so perfectly. My erection presses hard into her soft belly. Little moans of pleasure roll from her throat each time I tighten my fingers in her hair and slant her mouth so I can get closer. Deeper.

Her arms reach up and curl around my neck, then into my hair, and she’s pulling herself tighter, closer, removing any leftover pockets of air between our bodies.

“More,” she whispers against my lips. “Please.”

Need is a storm inside me. Need to please her. Need to have her. To touch her. To be touched. Her desires mix with mine across our bond—becoming one yearning and one goal.

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