Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
SO, THIS IS WHAT FREEDOM LOOKS LIKE
The golden haze of Founder’s Day lingers in the air.
Everything is still a mess. My magic, the wards, all of it. The day is here though, ready or not, and for a few hours, I let myself have this.
The air is thick with the scent of barbecued meat and honeyed cider, but back here, behind Thorne Curiosities, the alley is all damp stone and the musk of old wood.
I’m balancing a crate of moonstone charms against my hip, fingers brushing over the smooth, cool surfaces, when Maceo’s shadow swallows the last sliver of twilight.
His heat radiates against my back before his hands even land, one curling possessively around my waist, the other sliding up to tangle in my hair, tilting my head just enough to expose the vulnerable curve of my throat.
“Keisha,” he murmurs, voice rough as gravel, lips grazing the shell of my ear.
His teeth scrape lightly, not quite a bite, but the promise of one.
My pulse spikes, there’s no fear, just a delicious, traitorous thrill that always comes when he looks at me like I’m something to be devoured.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me? Standing there in that damn dress, all curves and secrets, like you weren’t made to drive me out of my fucking mind. ”
I swallow hard, the crate slipping slightly in my grip.
Maceo takes it out of my hands and sits it on the ground.
“We don’t have time for this,” I manage, but my voice is breathless, betraying me.
The protest is half-hearted at best, because the truth is, I want this.
Want him. The thought of protection comes to mind but it doesn’t slow me down.
That part, at least, is handled. The way his body presses against mine again once he’s secured the crate.
The way his breath hitches when I arch just enough to feel the hard length of him against my ass. Yeah, this is happening.
“The booth,” I say through heated kisses.
“Can wait.” His growl vibrates through me, his free hand sliding down to grip my hip, fingers digging in just shy of pain.
“I need to mark you. Need every Wolf in this town to scent me on you, in you, so they know exactly who you belong to.” His lips trail down my neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin just below my ear.
“Need my cum dripping down your thighs when you step out there, so there’s no mistaking it. ”
A whimper escapes me before I can stop it. My body is already responding, heat pooling low in my belly, my thighs pressing together instinctively. “Maceo, we’re outside. Anyone could. . .”
“Let them watch.” His voice is a dark purr, his hand sliding around to cup me through the thin fabric of my dress. I gasp as his fingers press against the damp heat between my legs, the friction maddening against my clit even through the layers. “Let them see how well I fuck my mate.”
The word sends a jolt through me. Mate. It’s not the first time he’s called me that, but every time, it hits differently.
My breath hitches as his fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress, rough callouses scraping against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
“I’m your mate?” I ask, the question barely more than a whisper, my voice trembling with something raw, something hungry.
Maceo doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he spins me around, pressing me back against the rough brick wall of the shop.
The cold surface bites into my skin through the thin fabric of my dress, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he pins me there, one hand on my hip, the other gripping my jaw just firmly enough to hold my gaze.
His eyes are wild, feral, the gold in them glows faintly in the dim light.
“Lucien and Ezra can call you what they want,” he growls, each word punctuated by the slow, deliberate roll of his hips against covered pussy.
“But you.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “My mate.”
The words are a brand, searing into me as surely as his touch.
My back arches off the wall, my body aches for more, for him.
His free hand slides up my thigh, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties, yanking them down with a sharp tug.
The cool evening air hits my exposed skin, but it’s nothing compared to the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“Maceo—” His name is a plea, a prayer, torn from my lips as his fingers find me, slick and ready.
He groans, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through me. “Fuck, Keisha. You’re dripping for me.”
I can’t even deny it. My body is his, has been his since the moment he first touched me.
His fingers work me with ruthless precision, curling just right, pressing just hard enough to have me gasping, my nails dig into his shoulders, desperate for something solid to hold onto. It’s not enough. I need more.
“Please,” I whimper, my voice breaking. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my ear as he withdraws his fingers.
The sound of his zipper is my only warning, as his fingers are replaced by the thick, blunt head of his cock.
He doesn’t tease, doesn’t draw it out, he takes, pushing into me in one smooth, relentless stroke that has my back bowing off the wall, a cry tearing from my throat.
Maceo captures the sound with his mouth, his kiss rough and demanding, swallowing my moans as he sets a punishing rhythm.
Each thrust is a claim, each roll of his hips a reminder of who I belong to.
The brick scrapes against my skin, the cold a distant thought compared to the fire burning through me.
His body fits against mine like we were made for this.
“Look at you,” he growls against my lips, his hand sliding up to tangle in my braids, forcing my head back so he can watch my face as he fucks me.
“Taking me so well. Such a good girl for your Alpha.” His words are filthy, intoxicating, and I can feel myself clenching around him, my body responding to the praise like it’s oxygen. “That’s it. Take it all. Take me.”
I can’t think, can’t breathe, all I can do is feel.
The stretch of him inside me, the way his hips snap against mine, the way his breath hitches when I clench around him.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, my nails bite into his skin as I hang on for dear life, my body coils tighter and tighter with each thrust.
“Maceo, I’m—” The words dissolve into a whimper as he shifts his angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me that has stars bursting behind my eyelids. His hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit with unerring precision, circling it in time with his thrusts.
“Cum for me,” he commands, his voice a dark promise. “Let me feel you milk my cock. Let everyone hear you scream my name.”
I do. My body shatters around him, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave, dragging me under as I cry out his name, my voice raw and broken.
Maceo groans, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his cock pulses inside me as he spills himself deep, his teeth sink into the crook of my neck, hard enough to break skin, to leave his mark behind. A brand.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing, his body trembles against mine, his cock still twitches inside me. Then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes soften, the feral edge gives way to something tender.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough but sure. His thumb brushes over my cheek, catching a tear I didn’t even realize had fallen. “I don’t care how long it’s been. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. When you know, you know.”
The words settle into my chest, warm and heavy, like a promise. I swallow hard, my throat tight. “How can you be so sure?”
His lips quirk into a smile, soft and possessive all at once.
“Because the thought of losing you makes me want to burn the world down.” His hand slides down to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.
“Because every time I look at you, I feel like I’ve finally found something I didn’t even know I was missing.
” His voice drops to a whisper, his forehead resting against mine.
“Because you’re mine, Keisha, and I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”
I exhale shakily, my heart pounding wildly from the need to reveal my own truth. “I love you too,” I whisper, the words feeling too small for the enormity of what I’m feeling.
Maceo’s smile widens, his eyes glowing with that same Alpha pride that always makes my stomach flip.
He presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips before pulling back.
Sorting out his clothes, he turns to me, his hands gentle as he helps me pull myself back together.
My legs are unsteady, my body still humming with the aftershocks of what we just did, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up as I wobble slightly.
Maceo chuckles, the sound rich and warm, his arm sliding around my waist to steady me.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself, Wolfie,” I tease, my voice still breathless.
He just beams, unrepentant. “Always.”
I roll my eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. How can there be, when he’s looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world? I lean into him, my head resting against his shoulder for a moment, breathing him in.
“Come on, Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Let’s get out there before Sir comes looking for you.”
I nod, letting him lead me back toward the warmth and light of the festival, my body still thrumming with the echoes of his touch, my heart full in a way I never thought possible.
As we step into the crowd, his hand possessively on the small of my back, I can feel the weight of his claim, his scent on my skin, his mark on my soul. I wouldn’t have it any other way.