The Morning Claim
Roman's pov
The morning light filtered through the curtains in muted, gray bands, barely touching the rumpled sheets of the bed. I lay on my side, propped up on one elbow, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the woman beside me.
The air in the room was thick, heavy with the mingled scents of sweat, sex, and the distinct, musky sweetness of her heat. It was a smell that clung to the back of my throat, a primal reminder of the night we had just survived.
Aurora was lost in the depths of sleep, her dark lashes casting long shadows against her pale cheeks. Her breathing was slow and peaceful, a stark contrast to the ragged gasps and cries she had torn from her own throat only hours ago. For a long moment, I simply let myself take in the sight of her.
She was definitely the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and the weight of that realization settled in my chest like a heavy stone. I was blessed to have her as my mate and queen.
She might look fragile and small, dwarfed by my sheer mass, but she was fierce and brave. She had taken everything I had given her and begged for more.
A soft movement beside me pulled me from my thoughts. Aurora stirred beneath the blanket, her legs shifting restlessly against the sheets. Her brows furrowed slightly before her eyes slowly opened, hazy and unfocused as they tried to adjust to the dim light.
"Roman..." she whispered, her voice was still weak with sleep, rough around the edges.
"Good morning, little one," I murmured, the deep rumble of my voice vibrating in my chest.
I reached out, wrapping a heavy arm around her waist, and pulled her closer to me until her back was flush against my front.
She fit perfectly there, the curve of her spine aligning with the hard planes of my stomach.
My gaze inevitably fell to the mark on her neck.
It was angry and red, a stark contrast to her creamy skin, the twin punctures scabbing over slightly.
I had bitten her hard, locking my jaw until the bond snapped into place, sealing our fates together.
I carefully brushed my fingers over the raised flesh, tracing the shape of my ownership.
Aurora flinched, a sharp intake of breath hissing through her teeth.
"Does it still hurt?" I asked, concern lacing my voice despite the dark satisfaction that roiled in my gut at the sight of my mark on her.
Mine, my beast growled in the back of my mind.
"Just a little sore," she replied, tilting her head slightly to give me better access, a submissive gesture that made my blood run hot.
From the very beginning, I had been terrified to mark her.
She's human, and I had feared her body wouldn't be able to carry the weight of my mark.
The venom alone could kill a human, and the physical trauma of the mating bite was significant.
But I had been wrong. Aurora was quite strong for a human.
Her recovery speed alone was unusual; the bite should have been swollen and agonizing this morning, yet she was merely sore.
And there was something else that had been bothering me, a nagging thought that scratched at the back of my mind. Since when did humans go into heat? The question had been circling through my mind ever since Aurora's fever began.
Humans weren't supposed to experience anything like that-that, the unbearable cramping, the fever and the biological imperative to mate until they were bred. It was a shifter trait, something rooted in the magic of their blood.
What if I had been wrong about her? What if Aurora wasn't entirely human?
The thought sent a strange unease through me. If she had shifter blood, however dormant, it changed everything.
It meant she might be able to give me an heir without any complications.
When we return to the pack, I was going to speak with the pack healer. She was an old woman with generations of knowledge passed down through her family-and witch blood running through her veins.
If anyone could tell me what Aurora truly was, it would be her.
I pushed the speculation aside for the moment, focusing instead on the warm, soft body in my arms. My hand rubbed gently up and down her spine, feeling the delicate ridges of her vertebrae.
"How are you feeling now?" I asked.
Aurora shifted against me, pressing her backside into my groin. The friction sent a jolt through me, my dick twitching against the curve of her ass. She stilled, and I felt her sharp inhale.
"I feel... empty," she said, the words barely a whisper.
My hand stopped its gentle path down her spine. The air thickened between us.
"Empty?" I asked, my voice dropping, the word rumbled from deep in my chest.
She nodded, her fingers curling into the sheet beneath her. "Like something's missing. Like there's a hollow space inside me that needs to be... filled."
A growl built in my throat, low and dangerous. The bond between us pulsed, her need bleeding into me through the fresh connection. It was raw and urgent, a hunger that mirrored my own.
Rolling her onto her back, I positioned myself above her, my forearms bracketing her head. Her dark hair fanned out against the white pillowcase, and her eyes were wide, pupils blown wide with desire.
"Tell me what you need, little one."
Her hand came up, fingers tracing the hard line of my jaw. "I need you inside me, Roman. I need to feel you claim me once again."
The word claim sent fire through my veins. My hand slid down her body, palm skimming over her stomach until I reached the slick heat between her thighs. She was already wet, impossibly wet, her body ready for me despite the long night we had shared.
My fingers found her entrance, and I pushed two digits inside her without preamble. Her back arched off the mattress, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. She was tight, her inner walls clenching around my fingers, pulling me deeper.
"So ready for me," I growled against her ear. "As if your body knows exactly what it needs."
"Please, Roman," she breathed, her hips bucking against my hand. "I need more."
I withdrew my fingers, bringing them to my mouth. The taste of her coated my tongue-sweet and salty and utterly addictive. Her eyes tracked the movement, her breath hitching as I licked her essence from my skin.
Positioning myself at her entrance, I paused, letting the head of my dick press against her slick folds. She was already so wet that I slid against her easily, the friction drawing a groan from both of us.
"Look at me," I commanded.
Her eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw everything, her trust, her desire, her absolute surrender.
I thrust forward, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful motion. Her cry of pleasure was swallowed by my mouth as I captured her lips, my tongue pushing past her teeth. She tasted like morning and musk and mine.
My hips began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that pushed me further into her heat with each stroke. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back, urging me deeper.
"You feel that?" I asked against her throat, my teeth grazing her pulse point. "Feel how perfectly you take me?"
"Yes," she whimpered, her nails raking down my back.
I pulled out almost entirely before slamming back into her, the force of my thrust driving her up the bed. The headboard slammed against the wall, a rhythmic counterpoint to her escalating moans.
The bond between us sang, a feedback loop of pleasure and possession. Every sound she made, every tremor of her body, fed directly into my senses. I could feel her pleasure as if it were my own, the pressure building low in her belly, the delicious friction of my dick stretching her tight walls.
My hand slid between our bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex. I circled it with my thumb, applying pressure in time with my thrusts.
Her body began to shudder, her inner walls fluttering around me. "Roman, I'm-"
"Not yet," I growled, slowing my pace. "Not until I say you can."
A whimper of frustration escaped her, but she nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I kept my pace measured, deliberate, each thrust a statement of ownership.
Leaning down, I captured her mouth again, my kiss deep and demanding. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, and I let myself get lost in her warmth.
When I finally allowed her release, it was with my teeth buried in her shoulder-a claiming bite that was gentler than the night before, but no less significant. She shattered beneath me, her cry muffled against my skin, her body convulsing around my dick.
The sensation pushed me over the edge. With a guttural roar, I poured myself into her, my seed flooding her depths. I thrust through the aftershocks, milking every last drop of pleasure from both our bodies.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sounds in the room were our ragged breathing and the pounding of my heart against her chest.
Finally, I pulled out, rolling onto my side and gathering her against me. Her body was limp, boneless in my arms, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with satisfaction.
But even as the haze of pleasure began to clear, that nagging thought returned. She had gone into heat. She had survived my bite. She had taken my seed as if her body was made for it.
My hand drifted down to her stomach, pressing flat against the soft skin. The thought of her carrying my child, of a swollen belly and full breasts, sent a fresh wave of possessiveness through me.
"What is it?" Aurora asked, her voice drowsy.
"Nothing," I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep, little one."