Chapter 17 - Wyn #2
“Did I hurt you?”
“No. Feels good. Everything you do feels good.”
That earns me a smile, the first genuinely happy smile I’ve seen from her in years. It makes something tight loosen in my chest, some knot of worry I didn’t even realize I was carrying.
I guide her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed, then help her lie down while I work at the fastenings of her pants. She lifts her hips to help me slide them down her legs along with her underwear, and then she’s completely naked.
The sight steals my breath. Her skin looks silver in the moonlight streaming through the window, highlighting every curve on her body.
My wolf wants to claim, to mark, to make sure everyone knows she belongs to me.
But the human part of me wants to worship, to show her with touch and taste exactly how much she means to me.
“You’re staring,” she teases, but there’s no self-consciousness in her voice.
“I’m memorizing,” I correct. “In case I never get the chance again.”
But God, I hope I’m wrong. I hope Mordaunt’s forces don’t tear apart everything we’re building before we have the chance to see where it leads.
But for now, for tonight, I push those fears away and focus on the woman beneath me.
I start at her throat and drag my tongue along the column of her neck until I find the spot that makes her arch off the bed. Her pulse speeds up against my lips, strong and steady, and the taste of salt gets stronger on my tongue the lower I go.
“I love the sounds you make,” I murmur against her throat.
“What sounds?”
“The little gasp when I touch you here.” I demonstrate, using my fingers to find the sensitive spot just below her ear. “The way you say my name when you want more.”
“Wyn,” she breathes, proving my point.
I work my way down her body, covering every inch of skin with my hands and mouth. Her breasts fit perfectly in my palms, and her nipples harden under my thumbs before I replace them with my tongue.
The taste of her skin changes as I move lower; it becomes more concentrated, more purely her. My wolf responds to the scent of her arousal by flooding my system with need, but I force myself to maintain control.
When I kiss the sensitive skin of her stomach, she gasps and arches beneath me. “Please,” she breathes.
“Please, what?”
“Touch me. Really touch me.”
I settle between her thighs and do exactly that, using my tongue to explore her most intimate places while she whimpers and writhes. Her taste fills my mouth until nothing exists except this moment, this woman, this connection between us.
She’s already soaking wet when I slide one finger inside her, then two, working her with slow strokes while my tongue focuses on the bundle of nerves that makes her cry out. The combination of sensations has her hands fisting in my hair, holding me against her as I work.
My wolf snarls with satisfaction at every sound she makes, every way her body responds to my touch. This is my mate, my woman, and hearing her pleasure makes something primal roar with possessiveness deep in my chest.
“Close,” she pants. “I’m so close.”
“Let go,” I encourage against her skin. “Let me watch you fall apart.”
When she comes, it’s with my name on her lips and her body clenching around my fingers. I work her through it gently, extending the pleasure until she’s both twitching and limp at the same time.
Her breathing comes hard and fast as she recovers, and I can smell the way her arousal has intensified rather than faded. Good. I’m nowhere near done with her yet.
“My turn,” she says when she can speak again, pushing at my shoulders.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. I’ve been thinking about this since that night in the armory.”
The admission sends fire through my veins. I let her push me onto my back, then help her remove the rest of my clothes until I’m as bare as she is.
Her hands explore me with the same dedicated attention I showed her, learning what makes me groan, what makes my hips buck involuntarily. When she wraps her hand around my cock and strokes, I have to grip the sheets to keep from losing control.
“God, Raegan.”
“I love watching you lose control,” she admits. “You’re always so careful, so in command. But not when I touch you like this.”
She’s right. With her, all my careful restraint crumbles. When she leans down and takes me in her mouth, I nearly come flying off the bed.
The wet heat of her tongue, the careful pressure of her lips, the way she learns what I like and does more of it…it’s almost too much to bear. I have to stop her before I finish in her mouth like some untried boy.
“Raegan, I need—”
“I know what you need.”
She moves back up my body and positions herself above me, taking me inside her with a slowness that makes us both groan. The feeling of being surrounded by her heat, connected to her through both physical joining and the supernatural bond, overwhelms every sense I have.
But this time, instead of the frantic desperation of our first time, we move together. She sets a rhythm that builds pleasure gradually instead of racing toward release. This is about connection as much as satisfaction, about choosing each other instead of just satisfying biological needs.
I watch her face as she moves above me, memorizing the way her eyes flutter closed when I hit just the right spot, the way her lips part when pleasure builds. Her hands brace against my chest for leverage, and I can feel her heartbeat through our joined skin.
“I can feel you,” she whispers as she rides me. “Through the bond. I can feel how much you want me.”
The pace increases naturally as emotion drives us both toward the edge. She juts her hips forward, taking me deeper, and I can feel her getting close again through the bond we share.
She feels perfect around me.
“Come with me,” I request as I move one hand between us to touch her where we’re joined.
The additional sensation pushes her over the edge, and she cries out as her body clenches around me. The feeling of her coming apart triggers my own release, and I bury myself deep inside her as I fill her with everything I have.
We stay connected afterward, neither willing to break the physical link between us. The mate bond feels content and sated, like it’s the beginning of real emotional intimacy instead of just physical compatibility.
I can feel the change in the connection between us. Not completion, not yet, but progress. Another barrier down, another step toward something neither of us fully understands yet.
She lifts her head to look at me, and I see understanding in her eyes. We’ve made progress tonight, but we both know there’s still work to do. Trust to rebuild, wounds to heal, fears to overcome.
But we’ve taken a step in the right direction.
And maybe that’s enough for now.
The rest we’ll figure out after we survive what Thane Mordaunt has planned for us.