CHAPTER NINETEEN
CATHERINE
Gin assaults me with barking and sloppy kisses the second I step out of the car in front of Elliot’s house.
“Okay, okay!” I laugh breathlessly, barely managing to shut the door before she launches at me again. “Calm down, girl. I was only gone a day and a half.”
Her tail wags hard enough to shake her entire body as I kneel to wrap my arms around her neck. She immediately licks the side of my face in response.
A warm laugh sounds above me.
“She’s just happy to see you.”
I glance up to find Elliot leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest while Mango perches on his shoulder like a tiny judgmental dragon. The late afternoon sun catches strands of gold in Elliot’s dark hair, the ocean breeze stirring the loose fabric of his shirt.
And goddess, my chest aches at the sight of him.
Something in his expression looks restrained, though. Softer than usual. Careful.
Like he’s already bracing himself for goodbye.
I rise slowly to my feet, smoothing the wrinkles from my dress as I close the distance between us.
“Are you going to bark at me too, dog of the sea?” I tease, unable to stop smiling.
His mouth curves faintly, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Would you like that?” he murmurs.
He slides one arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him, lowering his face to my neck. Warm breath skims my skin before he nuzzles beneath my ear, lingering there like he’s memorizing me.
“Show you how much I missed you?”
The deep husk of his voice sends heat spiraling through me instantly. My breath catches as I instinctively squeeze my thighs together, my pulse fluttering wildly beneath my skin.
But beneath the teasing flirtation, I can feel it now.
The tension in him. The sadness.
Like every touch is already becoming something to miss.
My smile falters as I pull back enough to look at him.
“What happened?” I ask softly.
“Nothing. Just happy you got the job.” Elliot scratches absently beneath the dragon’s chin, though his eyes never leave mine. “Congratulations, Cat.”
The words are genuine. Proud, even. Which somehow makes the heaviness beneath them hurt worse.
Silence stretches between us.
Gin finally wanders off toward the yard, distracted by something in the bushes, leaving the air suddenly too still.
Elliot’s thumb brushes slowly against my hip.
“So,” he says carefully, “when do you leave?”
The question punches straight through my chest.
Oh.
He thinks I’m moving.
I stare at him for half a second, almost laughing from sheer disbelief. This entire time, I’d been so busy panicking about the interview that I never stopped to consider what he must’ve assumed.
And suddenly all the anxiety and uncertainty from the last two days dissolves into something warm and almost unbearably tender.
Because he cares.
Because the thought of me leaving hurts him too.
“I’m not leaving,” I reply quietly.
His brows knit together. “What?”
“I got the job,” I repeat, unable to stop grinning. “But I’m staying in Crescent Cove.”
For the first time since I arrived, Elliot looks genuinely caught off guard.
“They offered me a remote position,” I continue, laughter slipping into my voice. “I only have to go into the city a few times a month.”
For one suspended heartbeat, he just stares at me.
Then the relief that crashes across his face nearly steals my breath.
His eyes close briefly as he exhales a soft, disbelieving chuckle against my forehead before drawing me tighter against him.
“You’re staying,” he echoes quietly, like he needs to hear the words out loud.
“I’m staying.”
Something shifts in his expression then. Something raw and bright and almost dangerously hopeful.
And standing there in the golden evening light, with his arms around me, Mango chirping happily from his shoulder and the scent of saltwater drifting through the air, the realization settles fully into place inside my chest.
I love him.
Not the fleeting kind of love built on excitement or summer nights or chemistry.
Something deeper. Soul-deep.
The kind that feels less like falling and more like finally finding where I belong.
“Forever?” he asks, looking into my eyes.
My heart soars as I rise onto my toes, my lips meeting his in a giddy, breathless kiss.
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
He lifts me by the waist and spins me around the front yard before pulling me against his chest and burying his face in my hair.
“Wren, you’re my fated mate. I knew it the moment we met.”
There it is again—that fleeting tug in my chest.
I glance down and place a hand over my heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” My gaze lifts to meet his.
“I didn’t want to scare you away. Or be the only reason you stayed.” His hand cradles my cheek. “I love you, Catherine Prescott. I want to be by your side for the rest of my life.”
“Can witches bond like shifters do? Through the bite?”
I’d never thought about it before.
“Do you want my mating mark, little Wren?” Elliot asks huskily, his fingers trailing down to curl around my throat. Suddenly, breathing feels impossible.
His grip tightens just enough to make heat unfurl low in my belly as he leans in, dragging my bottom lip between his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs against my mouth, voice rough and hungry as he kisses along my jaw. Lower. Slower. Until his lips brush the frantic pulse at the base of my throat. “Or a no?”
“Yes, Elliot,” I gasp, fingers knotting in the front of his shirt as his tongue flicks over the sensitive spot. “Mark me.”
A growl rumbles out of him at the words. Pure male satisfaction. Possession.
Before I can catch my breath, he sweeps me into his arms, carrying me through the house as though I weigh nothing at all. He whistles, and Gin comes bounding inside. The front door slams shut behind us, rattling the walls as he carries me to the back patio, dropping Mango off along the way.
Sunset light spills across the porch swing bed, silvering the chains overhead as he sets me gently on my feet.
Then his hands slide down my calves, removing my sandals with deliberate care that makes my skin ache in anticipation.
“So pretty for me,” he mutters, eyes dragging over my body like he’s already imagining tearing me apart.
My breath catches when he hooks his fingers into the front of my sundress. With one sharp yank, the fabric splits clean down the middle.
The sound alone makes me throb.
Cool night air kisses my skin, leaving me standing there in nothing but lace while Elliot stares at me like starving men stare at feasts.
“Do you like these?” His voice has gone deep. Feral. Barely human as his palm slides possessively down my stomach, fingers splaying over my waist. “Or should I rip these off too?”
I can’t answer. My knees feel weak under the weight of that gaze.
Elliot smirks like he knows it.
He drops to his knees in front of me, broad hands gliding up my thighs before hooking into the delicate fabric of my panties and dragging them slowly down my legs. The movement feels intimate somehow, reverent, especially when he presses a kiss to the soft skin of my stomach.
Another lower.
And lower still.
A breathy sound escapes me as his mouth brushes the inside of my thigh. My fingers dive into his hair, gripping tight as he hoists one of my legs over his shoulder. The position leaves me exposed, trembling, clinging to the chain suspending the porch swing bed for balance.
“Look at you,” he groans. “Already falling apart for me.”
Then his mouth finally finds me.
The first stroke of his tongue nearly buckles my knees. Elliot takes his time, savoring every gasp he pulls from my throat. He holds me open for him, utterly shameless as he devours me like he could spend hours there.
Pleasure builds, hot and relentless, until my thighs shake around his shoulders.
“Elliot—” I whimper.
He hums against me, the vibration sending a sharp jolt through me that tears a cry from my throat. My back arches as I shatter, fingers tangled painfully in his hair while wave after wave crashes through me.
And the bastard laughs softly while I’m still trembling.
The sound—smug, satisfied, impossibly sexy—nearly sends me over the edge all over again.
He rises slowly to his full height, mouth swollen and glistening, eyes dark with possession as he wipes his thumb across his lips.
“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he growls as he pulls his T-shirt over his head, exposing his rock-hard abs. He undoes the buttons of his pants, shoving them down his hips and kicking them aside.
Then he grabs my hips, hoists me effortlessly into his arms, and wraps my legs around his waist.
“How shall it be, mate?”
My hands slide to the hard muscle of his shoulders as he lowers me onto the bed.
It sways slightly beneath us as he positions himself above me and, slowly—so slowly—pushes into me.
I feel every inch of his cock as my body stretches to accommodate him, every brush of skin sending waves of pleasure through me.
Vaguely, I hear the sound of water sloshing in the pool.
“Careful, Wren,” he says, lowering his mouth to my breast and nipping before licking away the sting, sending pleasure zinging through my blood.
I moan, arching into his touch.
“You’re going to make things very wet.”
I move my hips, desperate for any friction as he takes his sweet time, building the tension between us. Release gathers along my spine, every inch of me feeling like it’s going to explode.
“I will never tire of this,” Elliot whispers before he thrusts hard and deep. At the same moment, he bites down on my neck, sharp shifter teeth breaking the skin and sending us both over the edge just as the sun dips below the horizon.