Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
KIER
Iwake to find Lithia gone from her bed, her scent still warm on the sheets but her presence absent. For a moment, panic claws at my chest—old instincts from three years of captivity screaming that she’s been taken, that this peace was just another dream.
Then I hear the shower running.
I lie still, listening to the sound of water and letting relief wash through me. She’s here. She’s safe. She chose me.
She chose me.
I stretch, pleased to find that my shoulder has only the slightest twinge of protest.
My wolf stirs beneath my skin, restless with need. Claim her, he demands. Make her ours completely.
I’ve been patient. Gods know I’ve been patient. But patience has its limits, and mine shattered the moment she whispered I love you.
The shower cuts off, and a few minutes later she emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her short hair damp.
“You’re awake,” she says, noticing me watching her.
“Hard to sleep when my mate is wandering around naked,” I reply, sitting up against the headboard. The sheet pools around my waist, and I don’t miss the way her eyes track the movement.
“How’s your shoulder?”
I lift it, rotating my arm. “Nearly good as new. Got to love our fast healing.”
She drops the towel.
Just like that. No hesitation, no self-consciousness, no careful negotiation of boundaries. She stands before me gloriously bare, her pale skin marked with fading bruises from our mission, and scars that tell stories of survival and strength.
She moves toward the bed with predatory grace. “I believe, mate, we have unfinished business.”
This is the Beta of Shadowmist Pack—confident, commanding, done with half-measures and hesitation. My wolf surges forward, recognizing the change in her. Yes. Finally.
I’m out of bed and crossing to her before conscious thought kicks in. When I reach her, I don’t gentle my touch or ask permission. My hands frame her face, thumb tracing her scar.
“You choose me,” I say, voice rough with barely contained hunger.
“I do.” Her silver eyes hold mine steadily. “Now what are you going to do about it?”
The challenge in her tone is deliberate. She’s not asking for tenderness or sweet words. She’s demanding I claim what’s mine.
Be careful what you wish for, mate.
I growl and slam my mouth to hers.
The kiss is fierce, consuming. She meets my hunger with her own, her nails digging into my shoulders as she presses against me. No hesitation, no fear—just pure filthy want.
I walk her backward until her spine hits the stone wall, pinning her there with my body. The contrast of cool stone and burning skin makes her gasp, and I swallow the sound, deepening the kiss until we’re both breathless.
“I’ve wanted this,” I bite out against her mouth, “wanted you, since the first moment I heard your voice in that cell.”
“Then take me,” she demands, wrapping her legs around my waist.
Fuck. The feel of her—wet and hot and ready—pressed against my cock nearly undoes me.
“You sure about that?” I ask, grinding against her. “Because once I start, I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name.”
Her smile is wicked. “Promise?”
I don’t answer with words. Instead, I lift her higher against the wall, position myself at her entrance, and thrust home in one brutal stroke.
The sound she makes—part gasp, part moan, completely mine—sends fire racing through my veins. She’s tight, so fucking tight, her body gripping me like a velvet fist. For a moment, neither of us moves, adjusting to the overwhelming sensation of finally being joined.
“Say you’re mine,” I demand, pulling back only to drive into her again.
“Yours,” she gasps, her head falling back against the stone. “Only yours.”
The words unlock something primal in me. I set a punishing pace, each thrust driving her higher up the wall, the sound of our bodies meeting echoing through the room. She meets me stroke for stroke, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.
“More,” she commands breathlessly. “Harder. Please, Kier.”
I give her what she wants, what we both need. This isn’t gentle or romantic—it’s claiming, pure and simple. The desperate hunger of two people who’ve found their perfect match and refuse to let anything stand between them.
Her first orgasm hits without warning, her body clenching around me as she cries out. But I don’t slow, don’t give her time to recover. I carry her to the bed, never breaking our connection, and lay her down beneath me.
“Turn over,” I order, my voice rough with command.
She obeys without question, rising to her hands and knees, presenting herself to me with a trust that makes my chest tight. From this angle, I can see everything—the elegant curve of her spine, the perfection of her ass, the evidence of her arousal glistening between her thighs.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, running my hands over her skin. “So fucking perfect.”
I enter her again, this position letting me go even deeper. The angle has her gasping, pressing back against me for more. I give it to her, setting a rhythm that has the bed frame creaking with each thrust.
“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “To be taken? Claimed? Owned?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, gods, yes.”
I can feel her building toward another peak, her body tensing beneath me. This time, when she comes, I let myself follow, buried deep inside her as we both shatter.
But we’re not done. Not even close.
Before she can catch her breath, I’m moving again, rolling us so she’s straddling my hips. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure, her lips swollen from my kisses, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Your turn,” I tell her, hands spanning her waist, my cock already rock hard once more. “Show me how much you want this.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice. Rising up on her knees, she sinks down on my cock with agonizing slowness, taking me inch by inch until I’m fully seated inside her.
The view is incredible—her head thrown back, breasts bouncing as she begins to move, the place where we’re joined slick and swollen.
“That’s my good girl,” I encourage, watching her find her rhythm. “Take what you need.”
She rides me with increasing confidence, her movements becoming more desperate as another orgasm builds. When she’s close—so close I can feel it in the tremor of her thighs—I flip us again, driving into her with renewed intensity.
“Now,” I growl against her throat. “Come for me now.”
This time, when she breaks apart beneath me, I sink my teeth into her shoulder at the exact moment of her climax. The mating bite—claiming her as mine in the most primal way possible.
She gasps, then leans forward, sinking her own teeth into my neck.
The shadow of the bond that was already there snaps into place with the force of a lightning strike.
Suddenly, I can feel everything she feels—the echoes of her orgasm still pulsing through her, the overwhelming love and satisfaction and rightness of being claimed. Her emotions flood through me. Relief, joy, a bone-deep contentment the likes of which I’ve never experienced.
And underneath it all, her wolf finally settles, recognizing her mate.
“I can feel you,” she gasps, her eyes wide with wonder. “Inside my head, in my heart. I can feel everything.”
“Good,” I murmur, licking the mating bite closed. “You’ll never be without me now.”
The truth of it rolls through our connection—this isn’t just physical joining anymore. We’re mated, bonded, two halves of the same whole. I can feel her wonder at the connection, the way it settles something restless that’s lived inside her for years.
Mine, my wolf says with deep satisfaction. Finally.
Ours, her wolf responds, and the rightness of it makes us both shudder.
But even mated, the hunger isn’t satisfied. If anything, the bond makes our need for each other more intense, the drive to claim and be claimed burning hotter than before.
“Again,” she whispers, and I can feel her desire through our connection, amplifying my own until it’s almost overwhelming.
“Insatiable,” I accuse, but I’m already hardening inside her, my body responding instantly to the hunger I can feel pouring through our bond.
“You made me this way,” she points out, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate circle that has us both groaning. The sensation, enhanced by our newfound connection, is almost too intense to bear.
I watch her closely, needing to memorize every expression as I claim her completely this time. Her silver eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide as she stares up at me.
“I can feel everything you’re feeling,” she whispers, wonder coloring her voice. “Your need, your hunger for me. It’s like—like I’m drowning in it.”
“Good,” I growl, settling between her thighs. “Because you’re about to feel a lot more.”
I slide into her slowly, savoring the way her body welcomes me, the perfect heat of her surrounding my cock. But this time, I can feel it from her perspective too—the stretch, the fullness, the way I hit that spot inside her that makes stars explode behind her eyes.
“Fuck,” I breathe, overwhelmed by the dual sensation. “Is this what you felt before? This incredible—”
“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “But it’s stronger now. So much stronger.”
I begin to move, each thrust deliberate and deep, building a rhythm that has both of us climbing toward something bigger than before.
Through our bond, I can sense exactly what she needs—a little more pressure here, a change of angle there.
It’s like having a direct line to her pleasure, and I use that knowledge ruthlessly.
“Right there,” she moans when I hit the perfect spot, but I already knew from the spike of sensation that echoed through our connection. “Gods, Kier, don’t stop.”
“Never,” I promise, grinding against that spot until she’s writhing beneath me. “I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”