Chapter Eleven #4
All I cared about was the way he filled me, the way his cock dragged over that spot inside me that made my vision blur.
“There,” I choked out. “Right there.”
He found a rhythm, hips snapping forward with enough force to rock the mattress. Each thrust sent pleasure ricocheting through me, sharp and bright, until I was nothing but nerve endings and need. His grip on my hip tightened, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and I loved it.
“So fucking tight,” he panted. “Milking me like you were made for it.”
I was. I was made for this—for him. The pressure coiling in my gut wound tighter, hotter, until I was trembling with it.
“Stroke yourself,” he ordered. “Want to see you come apart on my cock.”
I wrapped my fist around my shaft, jerking in time with his thrusts. The slick sound of my hand moving over my cock mixed with the obscene squelch of him fucking into me. My balls drew up tight, pleasure coiling low in my gut.
“Gonna come,” I warned, voice breaking.
“Do it,” he snarled. “Paint your stomach for me.”
My orgasm hit like a punch to the gut. My cock jerked in my fist, spilling thick ropes across my stomach and chest while my body locked down around him. Pleasure crashed over me in waves, each one stealing my breath, until I was nothing but shaking limbs and a throat raw from moaning his name.
Crowbar pressed his mouth to my shoulder and bit down. A sharp sting, then heat, then another wave cresting through me before I’d even come down from the last one. I made a sound I didn’t recognize.
“Mine.” The word vibrated against my skin. His hips lost their rhythm, snapping forward twice, three times, and then he was coming inside me, cock pulsing, filling me with wet heat that I could feel leaking out around him and down onto the sheets.
We stayed like that for several long moments, both of us breathing hard. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes had returned to their normal storm-cloud blue.
“You bit me,” I said.
“Marked you.” No apology in his tone. “Everyone will know you’re claimed now.”
Something warm bloomed in my stomach at the possessiveness in his voice. Ken had tried to own me. Crowbar claimed me. The difference was everything.
Pulling out slowly, he watched his cum leak from my hole with an expression that could only be described as satisfied. “Beautiful.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re mine.” Leaning down, he kissed me. Soft this time, almost tender. “Stay here. Gonna clean you up.”
Too boneless to argue, I watched him disappear into the bathroom. Water ran. When he returned, he had a warm cloth and a gentleness that made my throat tight.
He cleaned me with slow, careful strokes, thumb brushing over the bite mark on my shoulder. “Hurt?”
“No.” The ache was already fading, leaving behind only warmth. “Feels good actually.”
“Good.” Tossing the cloth aside, he climbed onto the bed and pulled me against him. Careful of my arm, he arranged us so my head rested on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around my waist.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“Saving me. Claiming me. All of it.”
His arm tightened around me. “Don’t have to thank me for that. You’re pack now. We protect our own.”
Pack. Family. The words settled into my bones like they’d always belonged there. Ken was gone. Dead and never coming back. And I was here, safe in the arms of a werewolf who’d torn apart my abuser without hesitation.
Maybe I should’ve felt guilty about watching Ken die and feeling nothing but relief. But I couldn’t muster the emotion. All I felt was free.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now you heal. Arm gets better. You keep working at the pet store if you want, or you don’t. Whatever you choose.”
“And us?”
“We keep doing this. You, me, Gunner.”
“Noodles.”
His huff of breath stirred my hair. “You’re never letting that go.”
“Never.” Tilting my head back, I kissed the underside of his jaw. “I’m getting her a vest made. With Noodles stitched across the back.”
“Already ordered one that says Gunner.”
“Then she’ll have two.”
“Spoiled.”
“Loved,” I corrected.
Crowbar’s hand found the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. “Yeah. Loved.”
Outside, the world kept turning. People went about their lives, completely unaware that monsters were real and sometimes they fell in love with humans who worked in pet stores. Ken was dead. I was alive. And for the first time in three years, I could breathe without checking over my shoulder.
Tomorrow I’d have to deal with the aftermath. The questions. The cleanup. Whatever came next.
But tonight, I was exactly where I belonged. In the arms of my mate, with a puppy named Noodles sleeping at a friend’s house, and a future that stretched out before me like an open road.
“Love you,” I whispered against his skin.
Crowbar went still. For a moment I thought I’d said it too soon, pushed too fast. Then his arms tightened around me and his lips pressed against the top of my head.
“Love you too, Indoors.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself sink into the warmth of him. Into the safety. Into the knowledge that I’d found something I hadn’t even known I was looking for.
Home.
THE END