Page 164 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“I feel like I finally belong,” I whispered. “Like I’ve finally come home.”

He gave me a teary smile. “I’ll always be your home, Sugar Plum.”

My fingers gripped the fabric of his T-shirt, and I rose onto my toes to smash my mouth against his. It had been too long since I had kissed him, and the little pleasurable tingles passing between our lips had me shuddering in his arms.

“That feeling,” I murmured as I paused to catch my breath. “When we touch each other. Is that part of the mate bond thing, too?” I asked, and he nodded, his nose brushing against mine. “It’s—it’s intense,” I said.

“It’s all-consuming,” he agreed. “I could get drunk from the feel of your skin against mine. And then combined with your scent and your taste—it’s all intoxicating.”

He crashed his mouth against mine again, and my arms went back around his neck. His hand fisted into my hair, tugging at it to tilt my chin higher, forcing me to open my mouth for his tongue to dance with mine.

I moaned into the kiss, holding him tighter, trying to get my body closer to his. But it wasn’t close enough. His clothes and mine were in the way of what I needed. I needed to feel all of him, needed to be reassured he still wanted me, needed to reassure him I would not leave him.

I moved one hand down his body as we continued to kiss until my hand palmed his hardening cock through his sweatpants. His grip on my hair tightened as I tried to bend my knees, and he groaned into my mouth. “Haven, what are you doing?”

“Taking what I want,” I crooned back to him, my eyes opening to stare up at him through my lashes as I squeezed his length through his pants.

“You were just injured. You need to rest and heal.”

“The doctor cleared me for all regular activity,” I said, batting my lashes. “And what I need is to be close to you. As close as possible.”

“Haven.” He sighed, squeezing me to him with his palm pressing into my back.

I continued to stroke him through his pants, and he groaned again. His thumb drew small circles into my back, filling me with the desire for more of his touch. The desire to feel my skin against his and feel those magic tingles that told me he was mine.

Mine.

A deep-rooted possessiveness surged to life inside me, urging me to touch and love and claim what belonged to me. My Wesley. My mate.

Fueled by that need and possessiveness, I grabbed the hem of his shirt in both of my hands, lifting it until he had no choice but to raise his arms and take it the rest of the way off, leaving him bare-chested. His sweat pants still sat low across his hips like they had that morning, exposing every dip and curve of his sculpted upper body to me.

I ran my hands from his broad shoulders to the waistband of those annoyingly sexy pants hiding his large, hardened cock, taking my time to caress every muscle. He shuddered in pleasure, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes watched my every movement, tracking them with the intensity of a predator tracking its prey.

And, in his case, he actually was a predator. But I wasn’t his prey. Not in that sense, anyway.

I tugged his pants down, kneeling and taking him in my hand as they fell around his ankles. His hips jerked forward a bit as I gave his dick a gentle tug and then flicked my tongue out to lick the tip of his dick.

“Goddess, Haven,” he growled, his hands sliding into my hair.

I looked up at him from my position on my knees as I wrapped my lips around him, my hand holding the base of his cock. I kept eye contact with him as I moved my mouth up and down his length, and the deep groan he released had me shivering with anticipation.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his hands tightening around my strands and his eyes squeezing shut. “Just like that, Sugar Plum,” he whispered.

He moved his hips in gentle thrusts as I sped up my movements with my mouth and my tongue, bringing him closer and closer to his release. He grew harder with each passing moment and I grew wetter and more aroused by both his reactions and the thought of what was to come.

Before I could finish him, though, he pulled my mouth off his dick and knelt on the floor with me, tossing his pants to the side. His hands moved to the hem of my shirt and lifted it up and over my head in one smooth motion. He trapped my hands in the shirt’s fabric, holding them above my head in one hand as his other hand traveled down my body.

His hand caressed every dip and curve of my torso, brushing the side of my breast before continuing to my stomach and my hip. Then he tossed the shirt to the side so his hands could tug at the waistband of my leggings. I stood up as he dragged them down my legs until they were off, and I stood completely bare before him.

He looked up at me from his knees, his hands sliding up the backs of my legs to my ass, which he gave a gentle squeeze. His eyes looked at me with raw love, and my body trembled again from the intensity of the bond between us. And from the thought that this strong man, this powerful lycan, would kneel in front of me and look at me as if I was his everything.

“I am the luckiest man—the luckiest lycan—in the entire world,” he murmured, kissing my hip bone. “You are so beautiful, Haven.”

His hands kept rubbing up and down the backs of my thighs and he kissed the top of my leg, his lips moving down my inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. One hand moved around to my front, and he dragged his knuckles over my lower lips and brushed my clit with his thumb, and a little sigh escaped me.

“Already so wet for me, and I’ve barely touched you,” he smirked, his eyes shining with approval as he kept giving my body his intimate attention.

“Wes,” I moaned, my knees shaking, my legs growing weak from the intensity of his touch, heightened by the bond that existed between us.

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