Page 49 of Just a Friend for the Lion

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And my Lion roars his approval.

“Fuck, Kitten—” I grind out, feeling her bodylock tighter around me, her nails dragging down my back like she’s trying to brand me with her need.

And maybe she does.

Because the second she rakes her claws down my spine, it’s like something inside me snaps.

I see red.

My mouth drops to hers in a bruising kiss, and I pound into her like a male possessed.

Her legs lock around my waist, heels digging in. Her head falls back, offering up her throat like some gorgeous, reckless temptation.

And then she whispers it.

“Feels so good. Feels like I’m yours,” she moans.

Mine.

My brain goes blank.

All my promises? My let’s just be friends shit?Gone.

All the rational reasons I shouldn’t do this?Forgotten.

She’s offering herself to me.

And that’s it.

That is fucking it.

My fangs drop, long and sharp and aching to pierce.

I can’t stop it.I won’t.

I lean down, lips brushing over the pulse hammering in her throat. She shivers beneath me, but doesn’t pull away.

My Lion is snarling now—wild, crazed, demanding I seal this.

Roaring at me to make her mine in the most permanent way a Shifter can.

So I do.

With a low, guttural growl, I sink my fangs into the curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder.

ThenCRASH. It hits me like a fucking tsunami.

Pleasure. Inevitability. Destiny.Whatever the fuck you wanna call it—I’m living it now.It is me.

“Carter!”

She cries out—loud and broken and desperate—as her inner muscles clench around me so tight I nearly black out.

I hold her close, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other gripping her hip as I drink in her scent, her warmth, the taste of her power flooding into mine.

Her blood is sweet and rich, thick with magic and something more.

Something ancient. Binding.

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