15. Lynx
LYNX
I’ve gone too far.
I never meant to tell him any of this shit, but here we fucking are.
He stares at me, wide-eyed and speechless.
Have I broken him?
I’m still holding his hand, still cradling his jaw. The fact he hasn’t pulled away and run off screaming has to be a good thing. Although I have no fucking idea what I want here.
Liar, my wolf snarls.
Fine. The base part of me, that primal animal instinct, wants nothing more than to bite down on the soft skin of Morgan’s throat and make him mine.
But that’s not all I am, and I know better than to give in to that side of me.
Morgan is human.
The last human I let into my heart died .
You could change him. I shut that thought down quickly, because it’s not fucking happening. Morgan has a life, family, friends, a future I’m sure he’s eager to get back to when this shit with the Feral Beasts dies down. I have nothing to offer him, even if I wanted a mate.
Which I don’t.
I don’t need that kind of vulnerability for someone to exploit. Not with the danger we put ourselves in every fucking month.
While I’ve been ostensibly in my head, I realise Morgan still hasn’t moved, hasn’t said anything. “Hey.” I stroke his cheek again, then tap his temple. “What’s going on in there?”
He blinks, like I’ve brought him back from wherever he disappeared to. “What does it mean?”
The question takes me by surprise. I’d expected flat-out denial, not curiosity. “A mate bond?” I clarify, then roll my eyes at myself, because what else could he possibly mean? Twat.
“I mean, there’s a bit about it in that book Flint gave me. But I don’t know how much of it’s true, and how much is bollocks.”
Neither do I, since I’ve never read it.
We’re standing so close, his scent wraps around me, drawing me in with every inhale.
I want to bury my face in it, hold him tight, and breathe him in until he’s all I can smell.
It takes significant effort to put a little space between us so we can talk.
Because we need to, and this conversation requires all my concentration.
I keep my hands on him, though. There’s only so much restraint I can muster.
“A mate bond is the strongest connection a shifter will ever experience.” I take a steadying breath. Just saying the words sends a thrill of excitement skittering down my spine. I need to be so, so careful here. “Right now, I feel a pull towards you, an awareness that resonates bone deep.”
He swallows. Something that looks very much like understanding shines in his eyes, but that’s impossible. Isn’t it?
I clear my throat. “But that’s nothing to how it would feel if we both accepted the bond.” I shiver. Goddess, help me , I didn’t think this through at all. You stupid fucker, Lynx .
“How would we do that?” It’s barely a whisper, like saying the words any louder will make it happen.
I take a minute to make sure I’m in full control, because even thinking about this next part is dangerous with the mood I’m in. “I’d have to bite you.” I trace the spot between his shoulder and neck, along the base of his throat. “Here.”
He swallows again and I feel the movement under my fingers.
It’s like a shot of want hits me full in the chest. My fingers twitch, my jaw aches, my wolf restless under my skin, and it takes everything I have to keep from sliding into a half shift.
Mine .
It’s a whisper in the back of my mind: a taunt, a tease, a little nudge to do what every fibre of my being wants to do.
But I can’t.
For so many fucking reasons, not least of which is the fact I need Morgan’s consent. I give in to the urge to drop my head to his shoulder, but that’s as much as I allow myself. I’m greedy though, and I breathe my fill, eyes dropping closed on the barest of moans.
After a moment, Morgan squeezes the hand holding his, then I feel long fingers carding through my hair, scratching my scalp. I melt against him, instinct taking over, the need to be as close as possible suddenly overriding everything else.
His body moulds to mine until we’re flush from thigh to chest.
It’s so fucking perfect.
So right.
I don’t ever want to move from this spot.
His hand drops lower, sliding down the back of my neck to my shoulder. His other one joins it, and as they glide lower still, I remember that I’m naked. It happens so often when we shift, it’s not a thing anymore.
But with Morgan’s hands settling on my arse cheeks, it’s quickly about to become one.
“Would I have to bite you, too?” he asks, softly.
Just the thought of his teeth on me lights a fire in my belly. “Yes,” I breathe, grinding my hips against him, grumbling at the feel of denim instead of skin. “Morgan,” I whisper, and reach for the button on his jeans. I lean back enough to see his face, eyebrows raised in silent question. Can I?
He glances down between us, at my cock, hard as a fucking rock where it presses against my belly. Biting his bottom lip, he nods. Then his hands close over mine. “But not like last time.” When he looks up, I’m caught in the mix of hope and need in his eyes.
It takes me a moment to get what he means, and when I do, I almost laugh, because no, this will be absolutely nothing like last time. “Wild fucking horses couldn’t drag me away.”
And then I kiss him.
He’s half smiling when my mouth covers his. I chase it with my lips and tongue, backing him against the tree as I reach between us and undo his jeans. As I lower the zip, Morgan lets go of me long enough to wriggle out of his coat, pull his T-shirt off, and drop them both on the ground.
I take a moment to scent the air around us, to listen. I don’t sense anyone nearby, but I give a warning growl just in case. I won’t react well if anyone comes close to us right now.
Shoving his jeans and underwear down his thighs exposes his cock, and the scent of his arousal hits me full force. I can’t help it, I growl again as a wave of possessiveness sweeps through me, taking all rational thought with it.
“Oh fuck .” Morgan moans and drops his head back against the tree, eyes falling closed. It leaves his neck, his throat exposed and I’m powerless against the pull of all that bare skin.
I kiss and nip along his collarbone, my tongue soothing the marks left by teeth that are a little too sharp to be human. I cling to the last threads of my control, because as desperate as I am to sink my teeth into him, to make Morgan mine forever, that’s the wolf in me talking.
Human me can’t take that step.
Won’t .
But I can have this.
Wrapping a hand around both of us, I set a slow, lazy pace. Every sigh and hitched breath I coax out of him stokes the fire building inside me.
I wish we were both naked.
I wish I had him laid out in my bed where I could take my time to explore every inch of him. But if I did that, if his scent mixed with mine in the place I feel safest... I’m not sure I’d ever let him go again.
“Oh god.” Morgan clings to my shoulders now. His fingers dig in, nails leaving half-moon indentations, and the sting sets my blood alight.
I want him to mark me, no matter how fleeting it might be.
I find his mouth again, not trusting myself to be anywhere near his neck when he comes. We kiss, hot and messy, as I work us both towards an orgasm that’s too close to hold off any longer.
“ Shit .” He tenses, breaking the kiss to greedily suck in air, and comes over my fist and his belly.
The scent hits me, and I’m done .
A low growl rumbles up from deep in my belly—raw, hungry, and full of the fierce need that grips me.
I use his release to slick my cock, hold his jaw with my other hand, and pull him into a messy, filthy kiss, needing to be connected again.
I groan into his mouth and press against him as my orgasm hits, painting his stomach as I follow him over the edge.
We’ve made a mess.
Mostly of Morgan, and I hum in satisfaction at the sight of him. I know I shouldn’t, he’ll smell like me enough as it is, and it’ll be like torturing myself every time I’m near him... but the temptation is too fucking great for me to resist.
And no part of me wants to.
I splay my hand on his belly, gently rubbing my thumb back and forth, massaging our come into his skin.
He watches my movements but doesn’t stop me. I wonder if this was in that stupid book. When I’m finished, I breathe in deep and grin. I’ll have some questions to answer when we go back inside, but at this moment I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
Morgan looks up at me, eyes curious as he meets my gaze. “You done?”
“Yep.”
He reaches for his jeans and underwear and slowly pulls them back up. It takes him way too long to fasten one button and do up a zip. “ So ,” he says, before letting out a heavy sigh that sets me on edge. “Now what?”
Fuck, I don’t know.
I didn’t plan for this. I should’ve, but I thought I was strong enough to keep my hands to myself.
I’m a fucking idiot.
My good mood fades rapidly.
Morgan reaches up and tentatively strokes the base of his throat. “You didn’t bite me.”
My gaze drops to his fingers, the wolf in me rising to the surface as I imagine it’s my mark he’s feeling. My voice is gravel rough when I speak. “Did you want me to?”
Silence.
Our eyes meet as he draws in a shaky breath. His gaze never wavers as he whispers, “Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”
My traitorous shifter heart skips a beat, because that wasn’t a no.
But it doesn’t matter.
“We can’t,” I grit out, and the words are like knives in my chest. “Even if we both wanted it.” I ache to reach out and touch him again, but resolutely keep my hands to myself this time.
“Why?”
“I told you why.” I take a step back, needing to put some space between us so I can think. He smells like me, like us , and with that scent filling my lungs, I can’t think of a single reason why I can’t just sink my teeth into him and keep him.
I scoop his clothes off the ground and hand them to him. “Put these on, we need to get back.”