THORN
The second her lips part under mine, I’m gone.
A year of restraint, of wondering, of aching obliterated in a heartbeat.
Her back hits the stone wall, and I cage her there with my arms, devouring her mouth like I’m starved for her, and I am.
My tongue slides against hers, her taste is wild and sweet, and I groan into her.
She brushes lightly at my chest. Not rejection, just enough to make me stop so she can grab my hand.
“This way.” She pulls the candelabra on the wall beside the faded painting and a door creaks open. The scent of dust and old parchment hits me. Could this be the secret library?
“I’ve heard of this place, but never found it.”
She drags me inside, then shuts the door behind us. “Roman showed it to me last year.”
“That kid is something else.” I shake my head as my eyes dart around the space.
“I really don’t want to talk about him right now,” she says between leaving a trail of kisses down my jaw.
The library is dark, the only light radiating from the hearth directly ahead, and it’s dulled to just above embers. Stacks of books tower around us in three tiers with a rolling ladder leading to the levels above.
I press her back against a bookshelf, lips on her throat, dragging my teeth lightly over her pulse. Her breath hitches, her claws extended, biting into my shoulders.
“Gods, Ember,” I rasp, my voice breaking, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Never,” she whispers, arching her nipples against mine.
My hands roam — her hips, her waist, the curve of her thigh. She gasps when I lift her leg up and pin it to my hip, grinding my hardness against her core. She’s wet already. It’s moist against my skin.
Her scent floods me — sweet, intoxicating. My fangs graze the soft skin at her collarbone. She tilts her head back, exposing her throat, and I nearly lose the last shred of control I have.
“Say it,” I growl against her skin. “Say you’re mine. That I’m not in this alone.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes, trembling, clutching at me like she’ll shatter if I let go.
I groan, pressing my forehead against hers, fighting the instinct to take her right here on the dusty shelf, under the eyes of the gods and the ghosts of the temple.
Instead, I kiss her again — slow, deep, reverent — searing the taste of her into me like a brand.
Because I know when the chase comes, there will be nothing but blood, teeth, and desperation between us.
This may be the only moment of peace we get.
But after a year apart, the kiss turns deeper, passionate, really quick. I hook my hand between her thighs, and nearly groan as my fingers slide through slick heat. She’s dripping for me.
“Gods above…” I hiss, dragging a thumb over her clit, circling until she arches off the shelf with a strangled moan.
Her hand finds my cock, squeezing, stroking, making me snarl into her throat. “Touch me,” she whispers. “Please…”
I line up against her dripping entrance.
But don’t trust myself. Not yet. Not here.
Not when I want the gods as witness when I finally knot her.
Instead, I grind against her folds, sliding up and down her wetness, letting the head of my cock catch her clit with every pass.
She writhes against me, panting, clawing at me back. “More,” she begs.
I slam my mouth over hers to swallow her cry as I rub faster, harder, until her thighs clamp around me and her body trembles, shattering against the library shelves.
Her pleasure tips me over the edge, I rut against her slickness, teeth clenched as I spill my seed hot against her belly and hip, marking her skin with me.
Her forehead collapses against my shoulder, panting. “Gods, that was…hot, Alpha Thorn...” she purrs.
I blink over at her, chest still heaving. “Wait… Did you just call me Alpha?”
“I’m trying it on for size.” She smirks.
“Gods, you’re killing me.” I shake my head as I pull her into a kiss, slower this time as my seed drips down the crook of her hip.
The door creaks suddenly, and we freeze. A priest slips in, tending to the fire. We stay locked in the shadows, breaths shallow, until his back is turned. Then I grab her hand, drag her out in the hall, and pull the secret door quietly shut behind us.
“So…” she murmurs, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the Chase?”
I smirk, brushing a thumb over her kiss-bruised mouth. “I will be aiming for you.”
She blushes, hiding a smile. “Aim true.”
“Always.”
I give her perfect ass a little smack as she walks down the corridor, watching her hips sway like temptation itself. Finally, after the longest year of my life, I’m going to claim my mate.