NICK
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ican still taste Izzy’s release on my lips—melted cinnamon, vanilla, and nutmeg—spicy and sweet.
Just like Izzy herself.
She was magnificent as she took her pleasure. A queen. A goddess I want to worship.
Izzy follows my instruction, taking her time to lie on her back against the pillows and stretch for me.
“Good girl,” I say. I can’t help but praise her.
Her whole body erupts in goosebumps as she rubs her thighs together. The thighs I’ve spent all night marking. Already, little red bruises bloom on her skin.
They’ll be even brighter tomorrow.
I eye her neck as she waits for me, specifically the spot right where her neck meets her shoulder. The spot I’ll bite when she accepts our bond.
My fangs almost elongate at the thought.
“Are you just going to make me watch or are you going to take your pants off?” she asks, making a show of pouting her bottom lip.
A million ideas flit through my mind about how I’d make her watch. Tie her up, see how patient she can be. But not tonight.
The button of my slacks slips through the hole, and with painful slowness, I lower the zipper. Her breathing picks up, making her breasts heave. With one last teasing pause, I drop my pants and stalk to the bed.
“Still interested?” I ask, giving her one last out. Not that I want her to call things off, but werewolves aren’t men. We’re big.
She nods, green eyes growing wide like saucers as she takes me in. “Yes, Nick. Always.”
I press a gentle kiss to her lower lip, giving it a soft nip. “That’s my girl.”
Nerves skitter through my chest as I brush the hair from Izzy’s face. I’ve been waiting for this woman for my entire life, and now she’s here.
Oh Goddess, what if I fuck this up?
What if my knot freaks her out? What about the first full moon we’ll share? It’s one thing to say you’re okay with dating a werewolf, but what happens when she finally sees the reality of what I am?
“Hey,” she whispers, stroking my cheek. “Where did you go?”
I press a kiss to her palm, my empathetic mate. “I’m right here, petite copine. I’m here.”
She deserves me being present. I can’t let my nerves get in the way of connecting with her.
I press a new kiss to her lips, applying a little pressure with my thumb to her chin to open her up so I can delve inside. Share remnants of her taste with her.
I curve my other hand around her hip, grounding myself in her. In my woman.
My mate.
She lifts her hips, sliding her beautiful cunt along my cock to get me wet for her. Little does she know, I’ve been a goddamn mess since she walked into my home in that little purple dress.
Pre-cum leaks, ready to smooth the way.
My cock catches on her entrance, almost going inside, and we simultaneously moan, breaking our kiss.
“So wet for me, Izzy,” I tell her, my voice breaking off on another pained gasp. “So perfect.”
Her eyes, glazed over in pleasure, plead for me. She needs this just as much as I do.
“Do you want me to put a condom on?” The words rip violently from my throat. I want her bare, to feel her pussy flutter around me with no barriers, but I have to have consent for that.
She shakes her head furiously. “No, I’m on birth control.”
I place a hand on the base of my cock as I finally line up and push inside. Her walls clench around me as she struggles to accommodate my size, but her head flies back in pleasure.
“Oh, Nick,” she whimpers, scent blooming so much I’m certain I’m going to lose my mind. Lose myself to the wolf and rut into her until we can’t take it.
Her nails sear into my skin, making little half-moon crescents I’ll relish tomorrow. I want them all over my body.
“Fuck, you take me so well, Izzy. So well. Do you know how goddamn good you feel?” I’m not even halfway inside yet, but I can’t stop the words.
The praise. The devotion. “You are the heaven I never knew existed. I wasn’t convinced I deserved.
Tell me all the ways to worship you.” I squeeze her hip. “You’re made for me.”
She opens her eyes as I speak, small tears in the outer corners threatening to fall over her cheeks. “I am?”
Finally—finally—I thrust the last few inches inside and cover her body entirely. “You are. You’re mine now, Isabella Gregory.”
She nods frantically, wiggling her hips. I press a kiss to her lips, overwhelming her senses until all she can hear, feel, smell, taste, and see is me. There’s no room for self-doubt here—hers or mine.
“Ready?” I ask her, waiting for her permission to move.
She lifts her hand, placing it on my cheek. Her thumb trails along my cheekbone as she regards me.
With a blinding smile, she nods. “Give me everything you’ve got, Nick Martin.”