Page 91 of Forbidden Devotion
Mitchel thrust, and Sinclair took it with a needy moan. The scent of his own blood in the air. Mitchel’s blood thrummed loudly in his veins.
Mitchel set the brutal pace Sinclair preferred, licking and sucking at the wound on his shoulder. Sinclair, wild beneath him, bucked his hips back violently, taking everything Mitchel could give. The back-and-forth of it, the rhythm, the slide of skin on skin, and the heat between them drove him wild.
Sinclair’s mouth hung open, gasping for air on each thrust. If this was what the claiming was like, he wanted to be claimed every full moon and in all the phases in between.
Mitchel’s frantic pace increased, and Sinclair matched it. Sweat beaded between their bodies.
The hard length inside him expanded impossibly large. Their cries pierced the calm of the forest as Mitchel came with a full-body shudder. Sinclair flexed his muscles around him, gripping him through it, eager for his seed.
Mitchel collapsed on top of him, still convulsing as he came down. They lay together, warm and sticky in the afterglow, Mitchel humming his contentment in Sinclair’s ear.
Mitchel’s tongue returned to the wound along his shoulder. The spot was throbbing, but Sinclair didn’t care. He liked it and tilted his neck to give better access.
“Bite me again.”
Mitchel kissed the torn flesh. “I’ve done enough damage.”
“It’ll heal. You want to do it. Bite me.” Sinclair pressed up against his teeth.
Mitchel only hesitated a moment. Sinclair let his head loll to the side as he bit, relaxing into the sensation.
Mitchel lifted him up on all fours, and his hand came around to grasp Sinclair’s cock, hard for the second time and already leaking.
“Oh god. Please.” Sinclair rocked into his fist. Close to the edge already, he got off after only a few quick pulls.
Teeth withdrew from his neck as he came down from orgasm. Breathing heavily, body limp, he let Mitchel position them on their sides. Stillness returned at once, Mitchel hot behind him, holding him tight.
And then, the oddest sensation. Distant, as if it weren’t quite his own. Remorse. But…he wasn’t the least bit remorseful. Sinclair had relished every moment of what they’d done.
No, it wasn’t his remorse. It was Mitchel’s, who was staring at the wound, concerned he’d gone too far. Hurt him.
Excitement bubbled to the surface. “You haven’t hurt me. Stop worrying. But, Mitchel, do you feel that? It’s worked. I know you’re concerned about the wound on my shoulder—I can feel it—but you shouldn’t be. I’m fine, and I’m so happy. Concentrate, Mitchel. Can you feel how happy I am?”
“You can feel me?” Mitchel nuzzled into his neck.
“Yes.”
Mitchel closed his eyes, and seconds later, a smile flitted across his face.
Sinclair felt his joy. His relief. It washed over him like a river flowing downstream to the inevitable sea. It became difficult to separate his own joy from Mitchel’s.
“I can feel you too,” Mitchel said. “You feel wonderful. You’re not hurt at all, are you? I thought I’d hurt you.”
“No, I love how it felt. How it feels.”
Mitchel cradled Sinclair close. “It really worked. I was afraid it wouldn’t, but it did.” He pressed his nose against Sinclair’s skin and took a deep breath. “You smell amazing. Our scents are already merging. Everything worked.”
“Of course it did,” Sinclair said. “I always knew it would. Everything wouldn’t feel so right between us if it wasn’t meant to be.”
Sinclair wriggled around to face his lover and kissed him soundly. He let his fangs drop and scraped Mitchel’s tongue until he tasted a hint of that divine blood he was now addicted to. Sinclair hummed into Mitchel’s mouth as he sucked his tongue, then licked it with his own, healing the cuts he’d made.
“You’re perfect,” Mitchel said softly.
“No, you are. And thank you for the deer.”
EPILOGUE
Four Years Later
