Page 22 of Fated to the Wolf Prince

FIFTEEN

Brielle

Oh Goddess, Kane was going to kill me. My body was burning up under his touch, and he had barely begun to tease me. It was pathetic how badly I wanted him, but I didn’t care. Didn’t think about how many women he’d used his wicked words and tongue on before me, or what the implications were of giving in, saying those words he wanted.

I shouldn’t, oh, I knew I shouldn’t. But he asked.

Heasked.

What did I want? I wanted him. Every hot, hard plane of his perfect body, crushing into mine, claiming, taking, wild… I wanted it. More than I wanted my next breath, I wanted his lips on mine, his dick grinding into me like he owned me. Because if I were being honest, really honest, I knew I couldn’t stop this thing growing between us.

I hated it, because I had already seen the future. I’d lived it. I’d lived the slow decline and descent into heartache. My parents had suffered, my mother with the illness, and my father being slowly hollowed out by watching her endure the pain and being unable to stop it.

But that was the past, and right now, all I could see was the heat, the force of nature that was Kane, growling so sweetly with need above me.

And I wanted him. Selfishly, I wanted him. And he was offering himself up, mine for the taking, this big, powerful alpha. This wolf who would one day rule the entire wolf world. He wantedme.

“Yes.” The word slipped from my lips like a prayer over the altar that was our joined bodies, and he dove down, not giving me a second to hesitate, to change my mind. His lips crashed so sweetly with mine, I couldn’t help but gasp.

He took advantage, pressing into my mouth, sweeping through me with his tongue, plundering, invading,owningme. And I pressed right back, wriggling one hand free from his hold overhead, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him harder, tighter, stronger to me. I wanted it all. I wanted the wild. I wanted him unhinged.

Our lips tangled and teased, fought for control in the sweetest war of all time. My chest was heaving, and I could feel my wolf shining through when he finally pulled back, his own eyes aglow, and a sheen of sweat coating his rock-hard chest.

Goddess, I wanted him. Wanted to lick every inch of that tempting muscle. Slide my hands under his waistband, peel those pants off him, and keep on going—

He dropped his forehead to mine, lowered himself to the bed beside me, and wrapped me up like a human burrito against his warm, naked chest. Goddess, I would never get enough of his skin. I traced little patterns across one firm pectoral, scraping gently with my fingernail, and he shivered at the contact.

“Thank you, my heart. My Brielle, my mate. Thank you.” He said it so softly, I almost didn’t catch those last words. But I did, and I locked them away in my heart to keep forever. Because for all his power, for all his wolf’s strength and dominance, this male wantedme. And I never wanted to forget this moment.

Heat blossomed in my chest, unfurling like the most delicate flower, as a new awareness flooded my body. He grunted, and I knew he was feeling it too.

The bond. We’d done it. I’d accepted his kiss, let him in, and now—the gentle heat coalesced, built in intensity until it reached its crescendo, centering over my hip bone.

The pain in my stomach was gone, lost to the passion between us, and the only thing I felt was liquid heat, like my limbs were made of molten Jell-O.

“Did you just feel…” He stopped, moved to rest a hand over his left pectoral muscle.

“I did.” I dropped my hand down to my right hip bone, where I was sure I now had a brand-new mating mark, the irrevocable proof that I’d found my fated mate, the other half of my soul. The strength to my softness, my protector, my one true love.

He rumbled, the soft vibration soothing under my ear. “May I see it? See your marks?”

I sucked in a surprised breath. That had been a hot kiss, but the mark was in an intimate place. He was so perfect. Was I ready to let him see all my flaws?

Did I want to keep him out? No, I didn’t. I wanted to see him look at me like that again. Worship me with his eyes. For the first time in my twenty-seven years of life, I didn’t want to hide.

“Yes.” The word was stronger this time, resolute. “But I want to see yours first.”

He propped himself on one elbow, leaning himself up so I could see the hard planes of his chest. I let my fingers trail over his smooth, tanned skin. There was a sprinkling of hair there, and I skated over it to his pec, where a swirling blue design now bloomed on his chest.

Every mating mark was unique, and I traced the strong lines of his with awe. These were for me, proof of my claim on him, my bond with him, a sign to every other female that he was taken. Pride swelled in my chest at the sight, and when I’d looked my fill, I rolled onto my back so he could see mine.

He leaned down and kissed the hollow above my collarbone. “Where is it?”

I tugged up the hem of my shirt in answer, exposing the top of the mark on my hip. He hissed through his teeth, that gleam already back in his eyes as he scooted down the bed, getting himself eye level with the mark. He traced it reverently with his fingertips, stopping at the waistband of my jeans.

“May I?” He was running his fingertips so tantalizingly over the tender skin there, softly enough that italmosttickled.

I opened my mouth to answer, but a frantic knock on the door froze us both in place.

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