Page 50 of Consume Me
We both have.
Even though this is all I’ve thought about for days, I couldn’t let myself give in to this before he was fully healed. The last thing I ever want to do is harm my mate.
But now… there’s no weakness, no trace of injury left in him. There’s only strength—controlled, measured, coiled strength that he’s holding back until I say go.
His hands are everywhere—sliding under mysweater, over my ribs, down my waist, tugging the fabric upward. He breaks the kiss only long enough to strip it over my head, tossing it aside before leaning down to close his mouth over my breast.
The shock of his tongue and teeth on my nipple makes me gasp, arching into him. He groans against me, the sound vibrating through my chest. His hand squeezes the other breast, his thumb circling lazily before giving it the same attention.
“Noctan…” My voice is a breathless plea.
He kisses a path down my stomach, slow enough to make me squirm, then hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my leggings and drags them down.
I should be embarrassed at how ready I am for him—but the way his gaze darkens as he takes me in makes every thought scatter. He leans down, his lips brushing my inner thigh, and I let out a sound of stifled pleasure.
When his mouth finds my core, I cry out, fisting the sheets. His tongue moves with the same skill as his hands—sure, confident, devastatingly thorough. He tastes me like I’m something rare, something worth savoring.
By the time he moves back up my body, I’m shaking, desperate for him to be inside me.
He settles between my thighs, bracing himself on his forearms. Our eyes lock as he pushes in, slow, deliberate, stretching me in a way that makes my toes curl.
The world narrows to the feel of him, the way he fills me completely.
He starts to move, each thrust building heat, pressure, need. My nails dig into his back, urging him faster. Hegroans, the sound raw, and his pace shifts—harder now, deeper.
Just before I tumble over the edge, the words are out of my mouth before I can think. “Claim me, Noctan. Make me yours.”
His rhythm falters. “Kendall… you have to be sure.”
“I’m sure,” I whisper. “I want this. I want you. Forever.”
His gaze softens. No less hungry but more potent suddenly. “You’re making a vow, darling.”
“I am. I vow forever with you as my mate.”
“It’s not just me you’re mating. Or did you forget about the Amarok?”
“It’s the Amarok I want most,” I tell him, and to prove it, I bare my throat.
For a heartbeat, he just stares, like he’s drinking me in. Then his eyes flash with something wild, primal. The snarl that leaves him is pure possession. He lowers his head, his mouth closing over the curve of my shoulder, and the elongated canines of his wolf sink in.
The pain is sharp, fleeting—and then it’s all heat, magic, pleasure flooding through me. The mate bond snaps into place, swirling between us, binding us so tightly I can feel his heartbeat like it’s my own.
I gasp, overwhelmed, and without thinking, I bite him back—my fae canines finding the soft join of his neck and shoulder and sinking in.
Visions swarm me the moment his blood hits my tongue.
Instead of death flashing behind my eyes, I see life. My life. With him. Years of it. Laughter. Love. A porch inthe sun. Children’s voices. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles at me like I’m still the only thing in his world.
It’s everything I never let myself hope for.
We shatter together—me, the fae warrior, and the wolf—the bond singing through every nerve, every breath, until there’s nothing left but the sound of our breathing and the weight of him holding me in place.
He doesn’t move right away. Just stays there, his forehead against mine, our bodies still joined, our hearts pounding in sync.
When he finally lifts his head, there’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before—peace.
“Mine,” he says, voice low and certain.
