Chapter 21 #2
“Please,” I moan. “I need… I need…” There’s a keening edge to my voice as my wolf whines in frustration. I push back hard. Take him deeper. Speed the pace.
His control shatters completely.
He groans—a guttural sound ripped from somewhere deep—and his hands tighten on my hips with bruising force. His claws pierce my skin. Then he’s driving into me with power that would hurt if my body wasn’t demanding exactly this.
Each thrust pushes me forward. His grip keeps me in place. The sound of skin against skin echoes in the small room along with our breathing—harsh and ragged and interspersed with inhuman sounds neither of us can suppress.
I can feel his scales now. They’ve manifested fully on his forearms, the rough texture scraping against my skin when his hands slide up my sides, over my ribs, tracing my body with possessive thoroughness.
The sensation is alien and irresistible.
Proof that he’s losing his human form the same way I am.
My claws extend fully. Dig into the mat beneath me. My fangs are down—I can feel them when I gasp, when I pant his name, when I make sounds I don’t recognize as coming from my own throat.
The heat is overwhelming. His dragonfire burning through us both. It’s not a metaphor. The air in the room is actually getting hotter. Sweat—or my streaming juices—slicks between our bodies. I can smell it mixing with pheromones thick enough to choke on.
He leans over me. Changes the angle. One hand slides up to grip my shoulder while the other stays on my hip, making absolutely certain I can’t escape, even though escape is the furthest thing from my mind.
His mouth finds the junction of my neck and shoulder. Kisses that feel more like claiming. Then teeth. Sharp against skin that’s oversensitive and desperate for what he’s taunting me with.
My wolf surges with frantic demand.
Bite. Mark. Claim. Forever. Yours.
“Please—” The word tears out of me. Begging again. “Please—”
I don’t even know what I’m asking for. Everything. More. Him. This. Always.
His teeth press harder against my shoulder. The threat of penetration right there on the edge. If he bites down—actually breaks skin—it’s permanent. Mate bond. No going back. Ever.
Yessss, my wolf whines.
His rhythm changes. Faster. Harder. Deeper. The angle is just right. He’s hitting something inside me that makes my vision white out. Makes thought impossible. Makes everything except sensation cease to exist.
The orgasm builds fast. Overwhelming pressure. I’m going to—
“Oh God… Oh God!” I’m breathless. Gasping.
His teeth press harder. Right on the edge of breaking skin. One more second of pressure and he’ll do it. He’ll mark me. Permanently.
I come apart.
The orgasm crashes through me with such intensity that I can’t breathe, can’t scream, can’t do anything except feel.
My inner walls clench around him rhythmically.
My wolf howls triumph inside my head. I’m making sounds—growls, whimpers, his name torn from my throat in a voice that comes from her. The wolf.
He doesn’t stop. Just keeps driving into me while I shatter. Making it last until I’m boneless and shaking and barely able to support my own weight.
His teeth stay on my shoulder. Pressing hard. I can feel his intent crystallizing. Feel his dragon demanding he complete the mark. Feel the inevitability of—
He jerks back with a sound like agony.
Rips his mouth away from my shoulder. Holding me firmly in place, he thrusts once, twice more—deep and desperate—then groans my name as he comes.
It’s too much and not enough. The heat of him spilling inside me.
The way his whole body goes rigid. The dragon rumble vibrating through his chest into my back.
The feeling of his cock pulsing as he empties himself…
It takes me over the edge again, my pussy drawing on every last drop of him as I spasm around his throbbing shaft.
Then: stillness.
We’re both gasping for air. Both shaking. Both slowly, reluctantly coming back to ourselves.
His hands loosen on my hips. I feel his claws retracting one by one. The scales on his forearms start to fade, rippling back beneath skin like they were never there.
I collapse forward onto the mat. Can’t hold myself up anymore. He pulls out carefully. Settles beside me.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe. Try to process what just happened.
Reality returns slowly. Then all at once.
Oh my God.
I push up to sitting. I’m shaking. I look down at myself; my claws are gone, but I can see where they tore into the mat.
My body is marked everywhere—his handprints on my hips in vivid red, scratches along my sides, and when I reach up to touch my shoulder, I feel the deep impression of teeth.
He didn’t break skin. But it came so close I can feel the individual marks of each tooth.
He would have marked me. Permanently. Irrevocably.
And I wanted it. God help me, I begged for it.
My wolf is satisfied. Sated. Purring deep contentment that radiates through my entire body.
But I—
“Nadia.” His voice is rough. Raw. He’s sitting up now, reaching for me. “We need to talk—”
“Don’t.” I scramble backward. Start trying to straighten my clothes. Pull my pants up from where they’re bunched around my knees.
“Please. Just—”
“No.” I can’t. Can’t look at him. Can’t face this. Can’t—
His eyes are fading back to human gray, but the process is slow. I can still see hints of silver. Still see the dragon lingering.
My eyes must be doing the same.
What we just did wasn’t human sex. Wasn’t even typical shifter mating. It was supernatural and primal, and I let my wolf take complete control and now—
Now I don’t know if anything I felt was actually mine.
“Nadia, please—”
Voices outside. Distant but approaching. Someone else coming to train at this ungodly hour.
Panic slices through me, sharp and cold. If they find us here like this—disheveled, marked, reeking of sex and pheromones—
I snatch up my bra and shirt, and finish making myself minimally decent. I head for the door.
“Nadia, wait—”
I don’t wait. Just slip out of the equipment room. Through the main training facility, where two operatives I don’t recognize are heading toward the weights. They glance at me. I keep walking. Steady pace. Don’t run. Don’t give them a reason to remember this moment.
Out into the corridor. Back toward my quarters. My legs are shaking. I can feel him still—inside me, on my skin, in my lungs with every breath.
I make it to my room. Close the door. Lock it. Then sink down with my back against the wall and try to breathe.
My shoulder throbs where his teeth nearly broke through. I touch it gingerly, can still feel the deep impression. It’ll definitely bruise. Visible evidence of how close we came to something permanent.
My wolf is happy. Fulfilled. Absolutely certain about what just happened and what it means.
But I—
The heat cycle is still there. Fading but present. Active. Still influencing every decision, every sensation, every response my body has.
Can I trust anything while it’s still there? Can I trust that I wanted him? Or just that my wolf wanted him? Can I trust that what we just did was choice? Or instinct? Or biology that will embarrass me when it finally ends?
And Chance.
Oh God, Chance.
I just fucked the man who sentenced him to death. The man who gave the order that robbed us of our future.
And I just let him— No. I begged him to.
My throat closes. Guilt floods through me, sharp and suffocating. What would Chance think? What would he say if he could see me now, marked by his killer, satisfied and sated and already wanting more?
I’m betraying him. Betraying his memory. Betraying everything our bond meant.
Tears burn behind my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. Won’t let myself break down. Not yet.
Tomorrow the heat will be gone. Tomorrow I’ll wake up clearheaded and rational and able to see this situation for what it really is.
Of course I will.
Then I’ll know if this meant anything. Or if I just made a catastrophic mistake.
Then I’ll know if I can live with what I’ve done. Or if the guilt will eat me alive.
I close my eyes. Rest my head against the door. Try to slow my heartbeat. Try to stop smelling him everywhere. Try to stop feeling the ghost of him moving inside me.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’ll know.