Page 12 of Eclipse of the Pack

“But why?” She prompted carefully.

Jon searched her eyes for a moment. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Ivy loosed a sigh. This couldn’t wait any longer; it was now or never.

“I do.” She said, holding Jon’s gaze. “We’re mates.”

16

JONATHEN

“Mates?” Jon asked. He understood the definition of the word, but he’d never heard it in reference to people. “As in…mating?” Ivy’s face turned scarlet, and Jon had to fight back a grin.

“Well, yes,” she said quickly, “But not necessarily. It’s a lycan phenomenon known as fated mates- humans refer to it as soulmates.”

Jon had noticed that Ivy had a habit of shifting her weight when she was uncomfortable, but noticing it was entirely different than experiencing it while she was in his lap. The friction she was creating made it difficult to focus on the use of the word ‘soulmates’.

“So I’ve secretly been a werewolf this whole time?” Jon teased, trying to keep his focus on their conversation.

Ivy laughed, the vibration running from her body into Jon’s. Every bit of his blood was rushing to the point she rubbed against.

“You wish,” she said, smiling, absolutely unaware of the effect she was having on him. “Not every shifter has a fated mate, so it’s exceedingly rare to not only have a mate, but for your mateto be a human.” Jon nodded absentmindedly, too wrapped up in the pink flush that stretched from her cheeks across the bridge of her nose to contribute anything.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure it was even possible,” Ivy continued. She might as well have been talking to herself.

Jon had never seen her bare legs before, and the feeling of the skin of her thigh under his fingers had his undivided attention.

He couldn’t help tracing the toned musculature visible under her smooth, pale skin. Ivy was still talking, but Jon had no clue what she said. He followed the delicate arc of her neck to where it met her collarbones with his eyes, unable to help himself as he leaned closer to brush the sensitive strip of her neck with his nose.

Ivy’s breath hitched at the contact, and satisfaction coursed through Jon like lightening as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his lips lightly brushing the same spot. She smelled like sun-warmed soil and honeysuckle, and Jon had never felt so mesmerized by so little contact.

Jon’s head had emptied out, all of his focus on how close Ivy was and what now strained against his pants. He vaguely recalled the fact that Ivy would be able to smell the shift in his phermones, but he doubted she needed any help reading his behavior.

Jon raised his eyes to hers, trying to maintain some semblance of control over himself. Ivy’s gaze was stifling, her lips parted slightly, an unmistakable haze clouding her normally piercing blue eyes as her gaze dropped to his lips. It was all the permission Jon needed.

He had Ivy under him in a matter of seconds, his mouth crashing into hers, devouring her, claiming her. Her tongue met his stroke for stroke, a groan shaking free in his chest. Ivy shifted to allow Jon to fall into the cradle between her thighs.

He ripped his mouth from hers, dragging his tongue over her hammering pulse and pressing a kiss into the hollow of her neck as he ground against her, her breathy pants nearly pushing him over the edge.

Jon ran his hand up Ivy’s exposed thigh to her hip, gripping the waistband of her shorts and tugging them down as Ivy’s hands tangled in his hair. This was not nearly enough- he needed more skin, more contact. He needed to taste her.

Ivy’s shorts were gone in a flash, her shirt pushed up around her waist, the rest of her bare and gleaming with wetness as Jon stared down at her. Ivy tugged the hem of his shirt frantically, seeming to need the contact as badly as he did.

The space between them only lasted for as long as it took for them both to be rid of their shirts, and then he was on her again, all bare skin and clashing teeth and hungry tongues.

Only the fabric of Jon’s pants separated them as he pressed against her, sliding his mouth and tongue back down her neck as his hand massaged her breast, teasing her pebbled nipple.

Ivy gasped, emitting a throaty moan as Jon’s mouth closed around that sensitive peak, his tongue lapping and tracing lazy circles while his hand worked her other breast. Ivy lifted her hips against him, begging for contact.

Jon met her eyes, a primal smile settling on his lips. Seeing her so undone, bare and aching beneath him, was an entirely new level of satisfaction. Ivy trembled, a small whimper escaping her lips, her blue eyes bright with need.

Jon held her gaze as he slid his hands down her sides, relishing the feeling of her ribcage giving way to her waist, before digging his fingertips into the curve of her hipbones. His mouth followed the trail his hands had blazed, dropping hot kisses in their wake, letting his lips skim across each of her hips, and then over her thighs.

Ivy’s hands wound into Jon’s hair again as her back arced off the couch and her hips bucked towards him.

“Jon,” she gasped. His name on her lips elicited a growl from Jon as he raked his teeth across the insides of her thighs, circling ever-closer to her throbbing core.

Jon hovered there for a moment, letting the heat of his breath bounce off of her before licking a long stripe from base to top up Ivy’s center, wrapping his lips around the spot at the apex of her thighs. Ivy let out a strangled cry in response, and Jon had to clamp an arm across her abdomen to still her.

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