Page 155 of With A Little Luck
She feels too good.
I find myself slamming into her, no longer caring if I wake her, my focus fully on the way her breasts bounce under Ridge’s shirt as I rut deeper.
“Trigg.” A soft hand flies down to cradle mine, which still works her clit. “You’re home.”
“I am,” I agree in a breathless tone, but it’s not the house that feels like home.
It’s Quincy.
“God, that feels good,” she whispers, grinding her hips back to meet mine. “I missed you.”
I tease my tongue back up her throat, nipping at her ear. “Me too, angel.”
The bossy little thing cups my fingers, showing me exactly how to work her clit before clenching her inner walls. I’m unprepared for how intense my pleasure gets as slick drips from her and down around my knot.
“I’m so close,” she says, moaning. “Bite me. Please?”
That’s truly all I’ve been waiting for.
A low growl rattles from my chest, and I strike her throat just below her ear.
So many things happen at once, and it becomes impossible to focus on one specific thing.
Her blood bubbles around my canines, and I lick it up like I’m a vampire.
Quincy’s pussy begins milking my shaft in rhythmic waves that send me over the edge.
My spine tingles as my balls get tight, and I slam as deep as I can get before emptying inside her.
All of that is secondary to the way her electric scent fills my entire being. It’s not like breathing her smell in from the air. It’s like her scent is inside my mind. Several seconds pass, and I lose my vision as I’m hit with a violent wave of euphoria that isn’t my own.
That’s Quincy’s orgasm.
Holy shit.
She accepted my claiming bite.
We’re bonded.
Only I forgot to give her one of her courting gifts before marking her.
Jesus Christ. It’s always something. At least she can’t get away from me now, and with a little luck, I’ll learn to be the perfect husband.
Okay, maybe I’ll need time and practice, but the bond is on my side. From here on out, I’ll have a deep level of insight from the connection that now links our souls together.
Quincy bursts into tears the next morning as I fashion the necklace around her lithe neck.
Pure panic rips through my chest as I glance between my packmates, desperately searching for any clue what I’ve done wrong.
Hartley chuckles, shaking his head.
Ridge just smirks with a shitty look on his face.
They’re no fucking help.
I would have gotten more insight from asking the mutt for assistance.
Squatting down next to her chair at the table, I pat her thigh. “It’s okay if you hate it. We can pick out another and have it delivered within a few hours.”
