Page 18 of Reveal Me
Dion’s jaw clenched, and I watched him fight to control himself, struggling to close his mouth. It wasn’t just his battle—I was fighting, too. Fighting the yearning that surged inside me, fighting the bond that was being forged between us, one I didn’t know if I could resist even if I wanted to.
When his lips finally closed, I felt a deep, quiet loss that I couldn’t explain. It was a quiet ache that settled in the pit of my stomach, even as my body trembled beneath him. We both were coming undone, our bodies seizing in a wild, desperate rhythm—arms tangled, legs locked, groins grinding together in an almost painful urgency. We continued to hold on to each other, even as we both tried to let go.
Chapter 12
Dion
Iwoke to the lingering taste of her on my lips—sweet, bitter, a sensation I didn’t want to let go of. Her scent still clung to me, like the aftermath of a storm, soft and heady. I inhaled deeply, feeling it in my bones, in my soul. Niamh. My fated mate.
She had been everything I’d never expected and everything I didn’t know I needed. As a kid, I’d imagined what finding my fated mate would feel like, always fearing that the connection would become monotonous, like that damned cream Cook used to make every night when supplies ran low during Pan’s Madness. I had lived with that dull, predictable flavor in my mouth night after night. It left me disappointed, wishing for something more. Something different.
Niamh was cream. But she was so many different flavors swirled into one. Her upper lip was sweeter than her bottom lip. The top was vanilla bean ice cream. Her bottom lip was strawberries. Her right ear lobe was like caramel—sugary, but with a touch of smokiness that made my pulse spike. Her left ear dark chocolate—deep, complex, and just the slightest bit bitter.
And don’t get me started on her cunt. Each lick of my tongue, each nip of my teeth, each time I wrapped my lips around her core and sucked, I got a different flavor. Her bud was honey and lemon. Her labials were lavender and jasmine. My tongue had dipped between her crack and tasted rich, dark espresso. Intense, bitter, with a warmth that spread through me like fire, making me ache for more of that bold intensity.
Her presence was the most exquisite dessert, and just when I thought I’d had enough, she’d surprise me again. There was no end to her complexity. Each kiss, each touch, was a new experience, a new indulgence.
I had wanted her, yes. But now that I had tasted her, I realized I wanted more than just the physical connection. I wanted my soul mate’s heart. I wanted her acceptance. I wanted her to claim me the way I had claimed her.
But now I lay there, the warmth of the sheets against my skin and the fading echo of her scent in the air. She had been so close to me, her body pressed against mine, her breath soft in my ear. And now she was gone.
The bed beside me was cold, empty. The weight of her absence pressed against my chest like a leaden weight. My body was sated, content, in a way I had never known. But my mind? My mind was a tangled mess.
I should have marked her. I almost had. I’d fought the panther inside of me to hold back. I hadn’t had to fight hard, not when I gave the beast my reason; we needed her to claim us back.
She liked the pleasure I could give her, of that I had not a single doubt. I’d doubled her record of orgasms in the first few minutes that I’d had her. I’d continued to fuck her through the night until she’d passed out. She’d passed out with me still inside her. It was the only reason I’d stopped and pulled out. But I could have feasted on her all night.
I kinda did. Just a few licks here and there. Nothing too perverted.
Though I could have perverted the fuck out of her.
She was mine.
My fated mate.
Who still had plans to reject me if the cold side of the bed had anything to say.
Or was she just playing a game? Was she pushing me to chase her?
I didn’t know her at all. Maybe I should ask Stella. But then I’d have to tell her who Niamh was to me.
That might be a good thing. Girls liked to match and have things in common. Stella was marrying my best friend. She would naturally love that I was mating her best friend. Right?
Well, that was if her best friend wasn’t planning on rejecting me.
But how could Niamh reject me after that performance last night? I doubted any woman would deny a repeat performance, a permanent seat on my cock. It had been my best work. Like I’d been fuck-training for years just to show off to my mate.
Yes, it felt like that was exactly what I had been doing all this time that I’d been waiting for Niamh. Because the thought of another woman… Huh, there were no longer any thoughts of other women. And that thought didn’t scare me anymore.
I was going to have Niamh. I was going to have her forever. Whether she liked it or not. She was already mine.
I pushed myself up, rubbing my face with my hands. The complex scent of her was still on my hands. The sweet vanilla from her top lip. The bitter chocolate from her earlobe. The espresso from when I bit her ass. Oh, I was going to do a lot more than bite that heart-shaped ass when I got my hands on it again. And she’d let me.
Last night, she’d let me do any and everything I wanted with her body. I could still hear the faint sound of her moans in my ears as she’d begged me not to stop. The way her eyes had sparkled when they went wide with each orgasm I pulled from her. The warmth of her lips pressed against mine as urged me harder, faster, more. She’d trusted me then, trusted me with the exterior part of her. But I was gunning for the inside. I was going to win over her heart, her mind, her soul.
I stood up, pacing the room. My dick was hard thinking about my mate, my queen. I was a king. A man who was supposed to have everything at his feet. But with her, I was weak, vulnerable, just another man craving something I could never be sure of.
Should I go after her? Demand answers? Or should I let her come to me, let her make the first move? The thought of her rejecting me, of her running from me, twisted in my gut like a knife.
