Chapter Eighteen #2
"Beautiful," he whispered, lowering his head to replace one thumb with his mouth. The hot, wet suction sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my groin, pulling a gasp from my throat.
I tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against mine. He straightened long enough to pull it over his head, revealing the expanse of his chest—broad and solid, dusted with red-gold hair that matched his beard.
The contrast between us was stark—his massive bear shifter physique making my leaner lynx form seem almost delicate in comparison.
But there was no inequality in our desire. His eyes reflected the same burning need I felt coursing through my veins.
His hands moved to my belt, those thick fingers displaying surprising dexterity as they unfastened my jeans and eased them down my hips along with my underwear.
I kicked them aside, standing naked before him without the shame or fear that had once ruled me. His gaze traveled over my body with open appreciation, seeing past the scars that marked my skin to the man beneath.
"My turn," I whispered, reaching for his belt.
He groaned at the sound of my voice, standing perfectly still as I undressed him with trembling fingers. When he stepped out of his jeans, his erection jutted proudly between us—thick and heavy, intimidating in its size yet making my mouth water with anticipation.
Rooster led me to our bed, laying me down with careful hands before covering my body with his.
The weight of him pressed me into the mattress, not crushing but grounding, making me feel protected rather than trapped.
His mouth found mine again as his hand slid between us, wrapping around both our cocks and stroking slowly, the friction drawing a moan from deep in my chest.
"I need to prepare you," he murmured against my lips. "Don't want to hurt you."
I nodded, spreading my legs wider in invitation. Rooster reached for the lubricant in our nightstand, coating his fingers generously before returning to me. His eyes held mine as he circled my entrance with one thick finger, the cool gel warming quickly against my heated skin.
"Relax for me, baby boy," he crooned, easing the tip of his finger inside.
I forced my muscles to yield, breathing through the initial discomfort until it gave way to pleasure. By the time he added a second finger, I was pushing back against his hand, seeking more.
He worked me open with patient care, scissoring his fingers and crooking them until they found the spot that made me arch off the bed with a choked cry.
"That's it," he praised, adding a third finger. "So perfect for me. My beautiful mate."
His free hand caressed my chest, my sides, my thighs—touching me everywhere as if memorizing my body through his fingertips.
When he lowered his head to take my cock into his mouth while his fingers continued their careful stretching, I had to grip the sheets to anchor myself against the dual assault of sensation.
"Rooster," I gasped, one hand flying to tangle in his fiery hair. "Please. I'm ready."
He lifted his head, his eyes dark with need but still checking, still making sure. "You're certain?"
I nodded, beyond words again, but absolutely sure. This was what I wanted—what I'd been moving toward since that first plate of food left on a picnic table had shown me that not all humans were threats.
Rooster withdrew his fingers and positioned himself between my thighs, coating his length with lubricant. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance, and I forced myself to relax as he pushed forward with careful restraint.
The stretch was intense, bordering on painful despite his thorough preparation, but I breathed through it, focusing on his face—on the love and concern etched into every line as he watched for any sign of discomfort.
"Still okay?" he whispered when he was fully seated inside me, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back.
I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him even deeper. "Move," I managed to say, the word barely audible, but enough.
He began to withdraw and thrust back in, establishing a slow rhythm that gave my body time to adjust. Each stroke became easier than the last, discomfort fading entirely as pleasure built in its place.
I felt myself opening for him, not just physically, but something deeper, some part of myself I'd kept walled off for fifteen years of survival.
As our rhythm intensified, I became aware of something unexpected—a warmth spreading from where our bodies joined, different from physical pleasure.
It was energy, distinctly Rooster's—protective, fierce, nurturing – flowing into me like honey, thick and sweet.
My own energy rose to meet it, wilder and sharper, but no less powerful.
"Do you feel it?" Rooster gasped, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. "The bond forming."
I nodded, unable to find words for what was happening between us.
Our shifter energies were intertwining—his bear heat merging with my lynx agility in waves that crested and receded with each thrust. It surrounded us like a visible aura, a golden-red glow that seemed to pulse with our shared heartbeat.
Rooster's movements became more forceful, his control slipping as our pleasure built toward its peak. I matched him thrust for thrust, my body singing with sensations I'd never imagined possible. His hand wrapped around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, pushing me closer to the edge.
"Liam," he groaned, his voice deeper, rougher—his bear nature rising to the surface. "I need to... the claiming bite..."
I tilted my head, exposing the juncture where my neck met my shoulder—the traditional place for a claiming mark. "Yes," I whispered, giving permission.
As our bodies drove toward completion, Rooster lowered his head, his breath hot against my skin. The moment his teeth broke through, sharp and decisive, pleasure exploded through me like a supernova.
My release hit with such force that my vision blacked out at the edges, my body arching beneath his as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through me.
Rooster followed immediately, his cock pulsing deep inside me as he maintained the bite, sealing our bond with the ancient ritual of our kind. I felt something click into place between us—a connection that transcended the physical, binding our souls as surely as our bodies were joined.
When he finally released my neck, licking gently at the wound to encourage healing, some instinct I didn’t know I had hit me and I struck fast, sinking my teeth into the soft flesh of Rooster’s throat. His groan was more satisfaction than pained.
I could still feel him in my mind almost instantly—a warm, steady presence that hadn't been there before.
The mate-bond, complete and unbreakable.
He gathered me against his chest as we collapsed onto the bed, our bodies still joined, unwilling to separate just yet. Morning light streamed through both our bedroom window and the glass ceiling of the atrium he'd built for me, bathing us in golden warmth.
"I love you," he whispered against my temple, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my skin.
I didn't need to speak for him to hear my response through our new bond—the emotion flowing freely between us, stronger than any words could express. But I gave him the gift of my voice anyway, one more time.
"I love you, too."