Chapter 9
In one smooth motion, Rafferty pulled back the sheets covering me, eyes darkening at the sight of my naked form. I’d been too exhausted to bother with pajamas after my night of frantic note-taking.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, large hands sliding up my thighs. “Every inch of you.”
I should have felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny, but something about Rafferty had always made me feel desired rather than exposed. That feeling intensified now, knowing what he was—the power contained in that seemingly human form.
“You’re staring,” he observed, thumbs tracing maddening circles on my inner thighs. “Seeing me differently now?”
“A bit,” I admitted. “It’s rather extraordinary, knowing what you really are.”
His expression flickered. “This is what I really am, Eliot.” He gestured to his human form. “The wolf is part of me, but this—the man sitting here with you—this is just as real.”
I reached out to touch his face, stubble rough against my palm. “I know. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
He turned to press a kiss to my palm. “Good. Because while the wolf wants to claim you, mark you, make you his—it’s the man who’s falling for you.”
The confession stole my breath. “Rafferty—”
“Too soon?” His smile was self-deprecating. “Werewolves don’t do casual well, I’m afraid. When we find someone who fits us, who calls to both sides of our nature… we tend to fall hard and fast.”
“Is that what’s happening? I’m… what, your werewolf soulmate?” Despite the teasing tone, my heart raced at the implication.
“We call it a mate-bond,” he said, suddenly serious. “It’s rare, especially with humans. But not unheard of.”
“And you think that’s what this is? Between us?”
His eyes flashed gold momentarily—a reminder of his dual nature. “I know it is. Have since that first day. Why do you think I kept dropping things whenever you were near? You quite literally made me clumsy.”
I remembered his strange behavior those first days—the “accidents” that always seemed to happen around me, the way he’d found excuses to touch me, to be near me. “That wasn’t just flirting? It was… wolf instinct?”
“Both.” His hand moved higher on my thigh, dangerously close to where I was rapidly hardening under his attention. “The human wanted to flirt. The wolf wanted to roll around in your scent until everyone knew you were mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice should have alarmed me. Instead, it sent heat coursing through my veins. “That’s… primally flattering.”
His laugh was low and knowing. “You like that, don’t you? The idea of being claimed.” His fingers finally, finally brushed against my erection. “Of belonging to me.”
“I’m not generally possessive,” I gasped as he wrapped his hand fully around me. “Or possessable.”
“And yet…” He stroked upward, thumb gathering moisture from the tip to ease the way. “Your body seems very interested in the concept.”
He wasn’t wrong. Every proprietary touch, every possessive word sent shivers of desire through me. There was something intoxicating about being wanted so thoroughly by a creature of such power—a power now fully revealed.
“It’s the novelty,” I tried, hips jerking involuntarily as he established a slow, torturous rhythm. “The… ah… extraordinary circumstances.”
“Mmm.” He leaned down, breath hot against my ear. “Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe you just want to be mine as badly as I want you to be.”
The rumble in his voice triggered something primal in me—a recognition beyond rational thought. I arched up against him, seeking more contact, more friction.
“Yes,” I admitted, the word torn from some deep, honest place inside me. “I do.”
His eyes flashed gold again, a growl vibrating through his chest. “Say it again.”
“I want to be yours.” The admission was somehow both surrender and claim. “I want you, all of you—man and wolf.”
With a sound more animal than human, Rafferty surged forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. His weight pressed me into the mattress, solid and real, as his hands explored my body with newfound urgency.
“Going to mark you,” he murmured against my throat between biting kisses. “Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”
“Rafferty,” I gasped as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot. “Need you. Please.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, eyes now more gold than green. “How do you want me, Eliot? Tell me.”
The blunt question made my cheeks heat, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Inside me. Want to feel you.”
His answering growl sent shivers down my spine. He reached for the nightstand drawer, retrieving lube with practiced ease. Then, to my surprise, he pressed the bottle into my hand.
“Show me,” he said, voice rough with desire. “Want to watch you get yourself ready for me.”
Heat flooded my face. This was new territory—more vulnerable, more exposed than our previous encounters. “I… that’s not something I usually…”
“Trust me.” His expression softened, though the hunger remained. “Please?”
How could I refuse him anything when he looked at me like that? I nodded, uncapping the bottle with slightly trembling fingers. Rafferty shifted to kneel between my spread thighs, giving me room while maintaining the perfect vantage point.
I coated my fingers generously, then reached between my legs, acutely aware of his intense focus. The first touch made me shiver—partly from the cool gel, partly from the intimacy of performing such an act under his watchful gaze.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as I slowly worked one finger inside myself. “So perfect for me.”
His praise emboldened me. I added a second finger, working deeper, stretching myself open while he watched with that predatory focus. When I crooked my fingers to brush against my prostate, the jolt of pleasure made me cry out.
“That’s it,” Rafferty encouraged, his own hand moving to stroke his impressive erection through his sweatpants. “Show me what feels good.”
I’d never considered myself particularly exhibitionistic, but something about his gaze made me want to perform, to show him exactly how much I wanted him. I added a third finger, fucking myself with increasing urgency while my free hand moved to stroke my cock.
“Stop.” His command was sharp, making me freeze mid-motion. “That’s mine.”
Before I could respond, he was leaning forward, replacing my hand with his mouth. The wet heat engulfing me made me cry out, hips bucking upward involuntarily. He took me deeper, tongue swirling around the head before sucking hard enough to make my vision blur.
“Rafferty,” I warned, already embarrassingly close to the edge. “If you keep that up—”
He pulled off with a final, teasing lick. “Not yet. Want you to come on my cock.” He hooked his thumbs in his sweatpants, pushing them down to free his erection—thick and flushed, already glistening at the tip.
I withdrew my fingers, reaching for him. “Now. Please.”
He positioned himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. Instead of pushing forward, however, he paused, eyes searching my face. “You’re sure? About all of this? About me?”
The vulnerability in his question touched something deep inside me. This powerful creature, this Guardian, was asking for reassurance from me—a mere human who’d stumbled into his world.
“I’m sure,” I said softly, cupping his face between my palms. “I want this. I want you—wolf and all.”
Something shifted in his expression—relief, joy, and hunger all mingled together. He turned to press a kiss to my palm, then slowly, inexorably pushed forward.
The initial stretch burned despite my thorough preparation—he was substantial in all forms, it seemed. I forced myself to relax, breathing through the discomfort until it melted into pleasure as he bottomed out inside me.
“Fuck,” he groaned, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself still. “So tight. So perfect.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him impossibly deeper. “Move. Please.”
He obeyed, establishing a rhythm that was agonizingly controlled. Each thrust was deliberate, angled to brush against the spot that made me see stars. I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into muscle as he gradually increased the pace.
“Mine,” he growled, the word punctuated by a particularly deep thrust. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasped, beyond embarrassment, beyond thought. “I’m yours, Rafferty.”
His control snapped. His movements became harder, faster, more primal. One large hand slid beneath me to grip my ass, changing the angle to hit my prostate with every thrust. The other wrapped around my neglected cock, stroking in counterpoint to his movements.
“No one else gets this,” he said roughly. “No one else touches you like this. Just me. Only me.”
“Only you,” I agreed, racing toward the edge. “Always you.”
He leaned down to claim my mouth in a kiss that was more possession than affection. When he pulled back, his eyes were fully gold, a hint of fang visible at the corners of his smile.
“Come for me, Eliot,” he commanded. “Let me feel you.”
It was the combination of his voice, his hand, and the slight scrape of those not-quite-human teeth against my throat that pushed me over. I came with a shout, spilling over his fist and clenching around him as pleasure crashed through me in overwhelming waves.
Rafferty followed moments later, his release triggering a second, smaller climax that left me trembling and oversensitive beneath him. He collapsed forward, careful to brace his weight on his forearms as he buried his face in my neck, breathing deeply of my scent.
For several long moments, we lay tangled together, heartbeats gradually slowing. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes had returned to their normal green, though the satisfaction in them remained decidedly wolfish.
“Well,” I said when I could form coherent speech again, “that was… enlightening research.”
His laugh rumbled through both our bodies. “Always the academic.”
“It’s who I am,” I reminded him, then hesitated. “Is that going to be a problem? My need to understand, to analyze, to document?”