Page 36 of Chev's Mate

I can practically feel Chev’s excitement as I lift it, exposing the small mark on the back of my neck. The golf cart groans as Chev stands, and a second later, I feel his body heat warming me through my clothing. He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

“I don’t see it,” he says.

I’m not excited to explain this.

“It looks like a birthmark,” I say. “It’s dormant, which is why it’s so small and light.”

That’s about all I know. Nymphs are secretive about our marks, and not many outside our kind have information about them. My mother was supposed to tell me about mine when I gotolder, but the opportunity was stolen from us by the Seekers. I’m one of the last of my kind, so I have nobody to ask now.

I believe the mark will turn dark pink and travel down the length of my spine. I have no idea how to make it do so, though.

Chev hums. “Dormant?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “That’s what my mother once told me. I don’t know much about it.”

A quiet, low noise begins to pour from Chev. I faintly remember hearing it before, and I clench my thighs together as it travels through me. Chev clears his throat and hits his chest a few times, but the noise doesn’t stop.

“Can I touch it?” he begs.

No.I should sayno. I left the house fully intending to ignore Chev and pretend he doesn’t exist, and I’m failing miserably. I didn’t get ten feet from my front door before calling out his name, and now he’s pleading to touch my neck.

The low noises continue seeping from Chev. He’s probably waited his entire life for this. That thought alone has me giving a jerky nod and lowering my chin to my chest.

“Fine,” I say.

I can practically smell Chev’s excitement. He doesn’t move right away, and the wait is excruciating. It’s hard not to be consumed by him and the bond, and it becomes especially hard to resist it when he’s touching me.

“I’m going to do it now,” Chev warns.

I nod.

Just one touch and I’ll be on my way. I’m already running late, and letting Chev distract me is irresponsible. I shouldn’t have called out to him—that was my first mistake. Hearing about his head injury has me frazzled, and I wish Charlie had never told me about it.

Something soft touches my mark, and I collapse.

My knees buckle, and if it weren’t for Chev’s quick reflexes, I’d be crumpled on the ground. He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me against his chest, supporting my weight entirely. I clutch at his forearm, unable to focus on anything but his touch against my mark.

Now I understand why the adults were so private about them.

Chev pulls away as he evaluates my reaction, and he loosens the arm around my waist just enough that I know I’m free to pull away at any moment. I don’t move. It’s probably a mistake. He’s giving me an out, a chance to stop this, and I don’t take it.

He touches my mark again.

Pleasure radiates down my spine, and I bite back a moan as he brushes his thumb over the small spot. He might as well be touching between my thighs, every sensation on my neck mirrored on my most intimate bits.

It’s too good. Am I going to cum?

Chev licks my neck.

Yes.

He licks me again, his rough tongue rubbing hard against me. I reach for him with both hands, desperate to hold the arm wrapped around my waist. I squeeze him as the pleasure grows, a squeaky whine slipping from my lips as my orgasm approaches.

My sex pulsates around nothing, and when Chev begins moaning into my skin, I fall apart. My nails dig into his forearm as I cum, almost drawing blood. Chev holds me through it, and once I’ve fallen limp, he guides me into my golf cart.

That was by far the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and I can practically feel Chev’s pride as he crouches before me and pushes my tangled hair out of my face.

“Vanessa,” he whispers. “Are you okay?”

---