Page 15 of Forced Wolf Bride

As I peak, I bite down on her neck, setting off her orgasm. Mine follows, and I'm still thrusting with nothing left to give as her walls continue to convulse around my cock.

We collapse on the grass, my body pinning her to the ground. The cool night air and the earthy smell of the forest soothe our ragged breathing.

After a while, I roll off Quinn and onto my back, my hand immediately going to her, tangling in her hair. She looks up at me, her eyes full of questions, the depths of which I'm not sure I'm ready to answer.

"We're mates, and you're mine," I say as if that's all the explanation she needs.

Chapter 8 - Quinn

I wake with the early morning light flooding the bedroom, the soft covers in disarray from all the times and ways Diego took me last night. My core aches, and every time I roll over, I'm reminded of the thousand different sensations my body has experienced at his hands.

I'm also alone. I don't even need to open my eyes to know he's not there, the bond is so strong now. Even in my sleep, I sense the loss of his physical presence.

I allow myself a few more minutes to process everything beneath the soft covers. Ishouldhave run. It was my big chance. Diego was otherwise occupied, everyone on the street was focused on the scene unfolding before us, and no one was watching me. Not only could I have run, but Diego left his keys in his jacket pocket when he ran over to apprehend the robbers. I could have just driven out of there. I could have been out on the main road in no time and figured out how to get back to Gina's.

Gina. What would my friend think if she could see me now? Literally sleeping with the enemy.

I groan, throwing the pillow over my face. I can barely admit the truth to myself, never mind Gina—if I ever see her again. I didn't run because I didn't want to. I want Diego, my wolf wants him. She senses the bond and will not be denied.

I didn't run because I chose to stay. I've sealed my own fate.

With that knowledge weighing heavily on my mind, I finally drag myself from the sanctuary of the bed and shower quickly before dressing in another of Diego's massive plaid shirts. As I step back into the main bedroom, feeling remarkably fresher after towel-drying my hair, I smell something delicious coming from downstairs.

If I didn't know better, I'd say Diego was cooking.

He hasn't shown any signs of being domesticated since I've been here. He's been gone by breakfast most days, though pastries and bread are always delivered. When he returns in the evening, he brings some kind of roast with him. I suspect he hasn't bothered cooking for himself in a very long time.

I pad down the central wood staircase that dominates the cabin, then turn left into the kitchen. It smells amazing in here: eggs, bacon, and waffles. I smirk to myself. Diego’s clearly in a good mood after last night.

He stands with his back to me, and I can't help but admire his broad shoulders in the light gray t-shirt he's wearing, his biceps straining and flexing as he flips the pan. I shiver as I recall the effortless way his strong arms lifted me last night as he bounced me on his cock.

Just the thought makes me blush furiously. I never imagined sex could feel like that.

Diego seems to sense my presence and turns around. His handsome face with the sexy five-day stubble he always seems to have looks amused when he takes in my obvious blush.

Stalking toward me, he laughs. "Whatever you're thinking must be good."

I open my mouth to reply, but then he's on me, his hands tangling in my still-wet hair. I let out a surprised yelp as he lifts me and spins me around so I'm sitting on the edge of the large island.

I gasp as he slides his hands up my thighs, pushing them apart and bunching up the fabric of my oversized shirt. His fingers find me already wet and begin to spread me open. A moan escapes me as he pushes my body slightly back so he can add a second and then a third thick finger. Feeling impossibly full now, I have to open my legs wider as his thumb runs circles around my clit.

"I know just what you need," he whispers gruffly in my ear before dipping his head to kneel between my open thighs. My hand grips his hair as he begins to suck my clit, his fingers continuing to fuck my tight channel.

The sensation is overwhelming, and I pant with pleasure as Diego relentlessly teases my clit with his tongue while his fingers fill me. He brings me closer and closer to orgasm until I can't take it anymore. Finally, I cry out as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me.

Diego chuckles wickedly as he stands back up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before planting a gentle kiss on my lips. He whispers, "Now that's what I call breakfast."

He turns back to the food, already dished up and probably half-cold by now. I slide off the counter, straightening the shirt, my legs shaky.

I can't get over the effect he has on me.

Wordlessly, I grab some placemats and cutlery as he brings our plates over. The food is slightly cold, but it still tastes amazing.

"You should cook more often," I joke between mouthfuls.

He shrugs and then eyes me. "Guess we built up an appetite. The kitchen could probably do with a few more groceries."

That's an understatement. The kitchen is bare, apart from the fresh pastries that arrive each day and the dinner he brings home.

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