Total pages in book: 202
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 968(@200wpm)___ 774(@250wpm)___ 645(@300wpm)
It feels like I hit new heights of sensation and I scream out immense ecstasy as he wraps his arms tight around me and pistons his hips over and over from beneath me.
As I flutter back down to Earth, he’s still not done vibrating inside me, filling me with his essence.
I flip my hair back to get it off my face and chest and he growls again, demanding, “Slow it down, wife. And eyes on your mate.”
Complying, I revel at the sight of the glowing silver, at the perfect view of him with his teeth embedded in his bottom lip, his muscles rippling as his hot hands skate up to cup my breasts, his thumbs caressing my pointed nipples.
I continue to sway and though my energy is depleting, my thigh and calf muscles burning, I rally because of how much he seems to be enjoying what I’m doing, and I want to please him. I want nothing more than to please him every day for the rest of my time breathing.
“When you’re ready, I want you to sink your teeth into my neck. You told me you wanted that; so do it. Mark me, Stacy. Let’s have that to look forward to, though, so not yet.”
I gulp down a swallow, nodding, but wondering if I can possibly summon the nerve without a direct command. If I had the nerve to talk about sex while imbibing, maybe I’d have the nerve to put my money where my mouth is with a few more of those drinks Bailey made for me.
“Making love to you is never boring, sweetheart. It gets boring for you, be sure to let me know, yeah? I’ll work extra hard to improve.”
Humor lights his gaze so I laugh a little. “It’s not remotely boring for me, Greyson. I just didn’t want to bore you.”
Making love. I like that. I like that a lot more than being told he likes mounting me. The shifters in my old pack could learn a thing or two hundred from Greyson Blackwood in terms of wooing a female.
“Glad to hear it. And you don’t. Believe that. Kiss your mate, woman,” he orders, sifting his fingers into my hair.
My mate.
Yes, he’s mine.
I lower to do so, but my body gives out on me at the same time as emotions well up so big inside me that a flood of emotion bursts from me. Tears, sobs, the whole shebang. But Greyson starts purring immediately as he turns me to my side and wraps both arms around me. I burrow into his chest, pressing my lips there.
He doesn’t ask me why I’m crying. I think it’s because he feels it – feels this immense connection between us. It’s a bond with depth and strength that I could never have fathomed. And I feel from him that he’s in this moment with me, feeling the same thing.
Oh my stars… I might already love this man. I never imagined romantic love to become a part of my fabric, my very core, but as I lie here connected to him physically as well as emotionally, fear slams in and grips me in a stranglehold. Because my brother could and will absolutely try to ruin this for me.
“No,” Greyson says firmly, “What you know of me so far, do you not see that I’ll protect you with everything I have, everything I…fucking… am?”
I squeeze him tighter, both loving and being embarrassed by how he can read me so well. I want to believe. I really, really do.
“You’ll see,” he vows, tipping my chin up and pressing his mouth to mine while his other hand sifts into my hair.
After a few minutes of it, I dare to ask, “Did you speak to Wyatt on the phone?”
“Left him a voicemail message.”
I swallow before a slow exhale.
“Forget Wyatt for now.”
I wish I could.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He playfully slaps my bottom and moves us to an upright position.
“Let’s go tackle that snack plate you started on.”
***
While we’re at the kitchen island, snacking on the stuff I’d put out with the addition of leftover roasted chicken and some leftover pasta, he asks, “So, Bailey your new partner in crime?”
I smile. “She wanted to loosen me up and make me more comfortable. I like her a lot. She’s really nice. Sent over a bunch of clothes, too, which is good since I don’t have much, and you ripped one of my few pairs of undies.” I flash a smile.
“Got your suitcase from the motel,” he says without humor. “Sent it to one of our trackers to memorize the scents of your brother and the betas who were here.”
I blink in surprise. And I feel a little embarrassed. And a little concerned. I had left some money hidden where I hoped Jimmy wouldn’t find it. I also had some inexpensive gifts tucked away for some of them at home. Nail polish and lipsticks for the girls. A Halloween book by a local author and some butterfly hair clips for little Halla who loves spooky stories. Comic books for my sixteen-year-old cousin, Lucas.