Page 43 of Fae Devoted
“Jo…” he murmured against her heated flesh, his mouth working its way to a soft breast. He closed his lips over a fabric-covered nipple and sucked. The peak stiffened, and Jo moaned, the feminine sound triggering another surge of blood to his groin.
He wanted her so much it hurt, the insistent throbbing of his arousal an excruciating mix of pleasure and pain. The need to Mark his mate had turned into a living, breathing entity, and the beast demanded to be set free. Unable to fight his instincts any longer, Tucker gave in. He released the taut nub to Jo’s protesting whimper, lifted his head, and looked into eyes heavy-lidded with more than lust. “Turn around, baby.”
Jo bit the inside of her cheek, the pulse at her throat fluttering wildly. The thick lashes fanning her flushed cheeks closed, and she slowly turned, placing her palms flat on the wall.
She was so goddamn sweet it made his heart swell, and his chest expand with an emotion akin to satisfaction.
“You’re perfect.” He ran a hand down the graceful curve of her spine, smoothing it over her hip and along the length of her thigh and back again. “And so fucking sexy.”
Blanketing her with his larger frame, he swept her long hair aside and then braced his forearm on the cracked plaster beside her head. He rounded her middle with his other hand and with gentle pressure on her stomach, pushed until her ass was nestling his rigid length. Tucker grunted at the erotic contact, licking a path from the base of her neck to the sweet spot beneath her ear. Candied oranges coated his tongue, and his fangs stretched to overlap his bottom lip.
Resting his forehead on her nape, he struggled to regain control. The timing was all wrong. His female warranted more than a quick rut in a seedy motel room.
“Jacob,” she said, voice thin and questioning.
“You deserve—”
“You,” she whispered, moving his hand from her belly to her breast. “I only want you.”
“I won’t take you here.” Hunger made his words guttural, but he was determined to ignore his relentless need.
“Jacob, please.”
Tucker kneaded her pert breast, his thumb skimming the raised tip before descending to the apex of her thighs. The honeyed smell of her passion spiked as he cupped her sex beneath her skirt. “But I can’t go another second without making you mine.”
He nuzzled the slope of her shoulder and then grazed the satiny skin with the sharp points of his teeth. Jo hissed, bowing her neck over his bent, upraised arm, giving him her weight and fully exposing her throat to his bite. As the heel of his hand exerted steady pressure to her clit through her lace panties, Tucker widened his jaw.
His top canines stabbed into the shallow dip above her left clavicle, his bottom piercing muscle and flesh near the junction of her neck. Fangs embedded, he snarled and held on. Jo shuddered, the intensity of his bite along with the jolt of Ferwyn magic setting off her release. It took every ounce of Tucker’s self-control not to follow her over.
Jo’s heart pounded in sync with his, their harsh pants the same swift tempo. He breathed through his nose, savoring her essence as it slid down his throat, her scent as it filled his lungs, and the internal awareness of his female flooding his mind.
Retracting his canines, he lapped at the trickles of blood left from the closing puncture wounds and eased his hand from her center. Tucker turned her in his arms and took Jo’s mouth in a quick, yet gentle kiss.
“We have to go.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, regretting they didn’t have time to revel in the start of the Mating Dance.
“I know.” Jo didn’t seem disappointed, lifting her heels and kissing his chin. A blush stole her freckles as she adjusted her dress, but her smile was radiant. “I’ll get my stuff.”
He pulled on a dark, clean t-shirt and left it untucked to conceal the bloodstains on his waistband. Shouldering his duffleand nabbing Jo’s suitcase, he grabbed her hand and led them outside to his battered truck.
“Where are we going?” she asked after buckling up.
“Traverse City. I want to see the park where Charlotte started that fire.” The engine started on the first try, and he headed straight toward I-75.
Tucker watched out of the corner of his eye as Jo flipped the visor down and pulled on the sleeve of her dress, displaying the fresh bitemark on her left shoulder. Without saying a word, she angled her body side to side, examining the Mark in the truck’s small mirror. As the silence wore on, he clenched the wheel, his gut twisting.
In his eyes, the blueish-gray shadows on her skin were beautiful, but what if Jo didn’t feel the same way?
“You lied, by the way,” she said after a long moment, snapping the shade shut.
“About what?” he asked, throat constricting. Was she reconsidering tying herself to him, even temporarily now that she understood the danger?
“You seem to have forgotten the promise you made.”
Promise?“What promise?”
Her hand landed on his thigh, and he linked their fingers, the action the most natural thing in the world. When she didn’t immediately answer, he chanced a sideways glance.
Jo beamed at him, her eyes twinkling with impish delight. “You said there’d be sex.”
