Page 55 of My Hexed Honeymoon

His eyes darken, the fingers at my hip tighten, and my heart skids out of control. “Say it again.”

“That you’re driving me crazy? I wouldn’t have thought?—”

Diego thrusts into me with a growl. “You know what I mean, bruja.”

I tremble slightly as I adjust to his side, shifting until I find the spot where it slides home. “Mi lobo, mi lobo, mi lobo.”

He places a palm low on my stomach, dragging the heel of it down, down, down so that it presses against my clit each time he thrusts into me.

We move together in a rhythm that’s all ours—timed to the heartbeat pounding in my ears, our breathless groans, the whispered promises he presses against my skin.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Mine to protect. Mine to fuck.” He withdraws and thrusts into me again, so deep I lose my breath. “Mine to love.”

The words undo me. I clutch at his shoulders, wrapping my legs around his waist, meeting each thrust with my own desperate need.

Until I come apart with his name on my lips, pleasure unraveling me like a runaway spool.

I watch as my wolf moves over me, feeling a surge of feminine power at watching a man with such tremendous strength bend to my will.

With a groan he follows me over the edge, his body shuddering above mine.

I cling tighter to him as he rides out the wave, anchoring us both like he usually anchors me.

We lie there catching our breath, the morning light filtering through the tent, the world hushed and still.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself believe in the possibility of a future—of hope.

Of love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The trail curves upward,damp earth soft beneath our hiking boots. I shift the weight of my pack higher on my shoulder and follow the invisible thread tethering me to Talia. She hikes a few feet ahead, curls bouncing, humming under her breath like this is just a nature stroll while Riven sulks.

It’s almost like they’ve switched places. Since the vampire’s been a thorn in my side since they arrived at my wedding, I can’t help but be extra amused by that.

Although our dangerous mission went disturbingly well, so I’m not sure why Riven’s so damn moody.

They certainly didn’t hesitate to jab at Talia and me when we were arguing and fighting our sexual tension on the hike up—then there was the blatant flirting with my wife—so again, struggling to care, though Talia’s trying.

Talia. Natalia. My wife.

Her ass.

Her laugh.

My growing obsession with her is the only thing going through my head, a record stuck on repeat.

I should be focused on our surroundings—the rustle of branches overhead; the distant bird calls; our sketchy vampire companion; and how much farther we have to go.

But mostly I’m replaying the taste of Talia’s skin and all the needy little noises she made as I moved inside her this morning.

I could live in that moment for the rest of my goddamn life.

I’d convinced myself this trip would be about duty. Finding the Blood Loom. Protecting the pack. Enduring my forced marriage to a witch.

Suddenly it’s become so much more.

Talia slows as we reach a break in the trees. A stream cuts through the forest, wide and glittering in the noonday sun. She waits until I draw even, then glances up at me with that unreadable expression she’s so good at giving me.

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