Page 56 of Due North

He finally pulls away just in time to catch me as my leg gives out, my back sliding down the wall as I slowly end up in his arms. He stands, taking me with him, and walks me over to the desk to reposition us the way we were before I tried to ditch him.

“Do you have any idea how hot it is when you moan my name?” Paxton asks, fisting one of his hands in my hair to force my head to tilt back enough so I have no choice but to meet his gaze.

I frown up at him. “I moaned your name?”

His lips widen into a full-blown smile, and I hate how handsome it makes him look. His eyes are teasing, but I can tell from the even tone of his voice that he’s not just giving me a hard time. I really did moan his name, even if I don’t remember it.

“You were moaning my name while you were coming on my tongue, princess.” I wrinkle my nose at the nickname, and he amends the endearment, “Sweetheart.”

Have I given him the impression I like that better? “You don’t have to call me a pet name.” It feels too familiar for how things currently are between us.

“I like calling you sweetheart.” His grip on my hair tightens, and the skin around his eyes wrinkles. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to complain. Considering the circumstances, I think it’s a conversation that can wait until later.

“Let’s stop talking,” I suggest.

He narrows his eyes at me, and I can tell he’s tempted to push the issue but mercifully he kisses me instead. I let his hand in my hair guide my mouth to where he wants me, his tongue delving deep into my mouth and letting me taste myself on him. It’s dirty and hot, and I need more. I pull him closer to me by the waistband of his sweatpants.

He pulls away long enough to shove the sweatpants down his legs and step out of them. I only let go of him that long too. As soon as they’re off, I reach for his shoulders to help drag him back to me.

Common sense. Self-preservation. Those things are long gone as I offer my mouth to him.

He kisses me hard as he pulls me closer to the edge of the desk. I already know what he looks like naked thanks to all of the shifting. His cock is thick and veiny, and I can feel it straining toward me as he breaks our kiss to stare down at me like he’s drinking me in with his eyes.

He keeps one hand on my thigh, squeezing as he wraps the other around his cock and strokes it. My eyes drop to watch, mesmerized as he touches himself, his hand moving slowly over his length. When I feel like I can’t be patient a second longer, I reach for him, but he brushes my hand away.

“Look at me, Tasha.” He lines his cock up between my legs and waits for me to make eye contact. “Good girl,” he whispers.

I cry out when he pushes into me, his body tensing as he pauses to give me a chance to adjust. Our eyes stay locked as he starts to thrust. His pace is leisurely, like we have all the time in the world. As if there isn’t a storm raging outside and unknown threats around every corner.

As adamant as I’ve been about not letting him mark me, this feels like a claiming all its own. Just sex doesn’t feel likejustanything anymore as he stares down at me like he can see through all the reasons I have for not giving him a chance.

He tangles his hands in my hair as he thrusts harder. When I try to shut my eyes, he slows until I open them again. “That’s right, baby. Eyes on me.” He hunches his shoulders to kiss me while he keeps pumping into me, his movements becoming jerkier as I whimper into his mouth and arch up to meet him. I’m so close to going over the edge again, and he must sense it. He pulls my hair back until I put my hand behind me on the desk and lean back slightly.

He hums his appreciation as he uses his legs to force mine farther apart. No one has ever spread me so wide open before. He doesn’t even have to take advantage of the new position because it’s that thought that pushes me over the edge.

It’s never been like this.

My whole body vibrates with pleasure as I crash into my second orgasm. I tear my mouth away from his and tilt my head to bury my face in his neck. I want to cry out with my pleasure, but somehow even in the throes of an orgasm, I remember my embarrassment over moaning his name. To keep myself from repeating the mistake, I sink my teeth into his skin. It takes a remarkable amount of work for my blunt human teeth to sink in, but my canines go easily, the tang of blood reaching my tongue as my teeth break skin.

He lets out a whole string of curses as he thrusts into me violently several times in a row before groaning and going still as he comes deep inside of me.

I don’t understand his sudden passion until I pull away panting and see the imprint from my teeth I’ve left at the base of his neck. I can feel all the blood drain away from my face. I marked him.

I marked him.

This is a disaster. A whole fucking disaster. I press my hand over my chest because I think I might be having a heart attack. Paxton wisely eases out of me, his hand running soothingly over my hair as if that’s going to fix everything.

I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I want to say.

He lets me push him away.What are you doing?My wolf is freaking out as much as the rest of me but for vastly different reasons. My wolf is ready to lean right into what I’ve done, but I can’t. I can’t. I wasn’t meant to do that, it just… It just happened.

I start to get off the table but Paxton holds a hand up. “Wait here.”

I’m too conflicted to do anything but stay put as he leaves the room and then returns a moment later with a washcloth. We’re both silent, and I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling as he gently wipes me clean between my legs. I have to grit my teeth to keep from giving in to the urge to swoon over it. No one’s ever done that for me before.

He steps back again when he’s done, correctly reading my need for space. I’m too overwhelmed, and it doesn’t help that I’m somehow more aware of him now than I was before marking him.

I marked him.

---