Chapter 15 #3
“Never,” he promised, then pressed forward in one slow, inexorable thrust that had me gasping his name.
The initial stretch and burn quickly melted into familiar pleasure as he established a rhythm we’d perfected over countless nights together. One large hand gripped my hip while the other wrapped around my chest, holding me against him as he moved within me.
“Mine,” he growled against my ear, voice deeper than usual, touched with that rumbling quality that emerged when his wolf was close to the surface. “My mate. My Eliot.”
“Yours,” I agreed without hesitation, the word punched out of me with each precise thrust. “Always yours.”
He shifted angle slightly, now hitting the spot that made me see stars with every movement. His hand slid from my chest to wrap around my neglected erection, stroking in counterpoint to his thrusts.
“Want to feel you,” he murmured, nipping at the sensitive juncture of my neck and shoulder. “Want to watch you come apart for me.”
It didn’t take long. The dual stimulation, combined with the emotional intensity of the day, quickly pushed me toward the edge.
When his teeth grazed that particular spot behind my ear—slightly sharper than human teeth should be—I was lost, crying out his name as pleasure crashed through me in overwhelming waves.
Rafferty followed moments later, my release triggering his own. He buried himself deep with a sound that was more howl than groan, his body shuddering against mine as he found his completion.
For several long moments, we remained frozen in that position, both catching our breath. Then, with the gentleness that always followed his most intense passion, he eased out of me and guided us both to lie on our sides, his chest pressed against my back, arm draped protectively over my waist.
“Well,” I said when I could speak again, “that was quite the engagement celebration.”
His laugh rumbled against my back. “Just wait until the wedding night. Guardian tradition demands at least three rounds.”
“Is that an actual tradition, or are you making things up again?”
“Would I lie about sacred pack rituals?” His tone was wounded, but I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Absolutely.” I turned in his arms to face him. “You told me it was ‘sacred pack tradition’ to bring you coffee in bed every morning.”
“It is!” He grinned unrepentantly. “The Alpha must be properly caffeinated to lead effectively.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress my own smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And you love me.”
“I do,” I admitted softly. “Wolf and all.”
His expression softened, humor giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable. “I never thought I’d find someone who could accept all of me. Who would look at the wolf and see beauty instead of monster.”
“I’m a scientist,” I reminded him. “We’re trained to see the extraordinary in the seemingly impossible.”
“Is that what I am? Extraordinary?”
I traced the contours of his face with gentle fingers—the strong jaw, the slight cleft in his chin, the laugh lines around eyes that had seen more than their human appearance suggested.
“Beyond extraordinary,” I assured him. “You’re empirical evidence of magic in the world. And the love of my life.”
His smile was brighter than the full moon outside our window. “Professor Eliot Byrne, secret romantic. Who would have thought?”
“Secret nothing,” I corrected. “I’ve published extensive field notes on interspecies courtship rituals. They’re quite popular among certain academic circles.”
“Ah, yes. Your ‘coded’ research papers.” He nuzzled against my neck. “The ones where you call werewolves ‘uniquely adapted apex predators with dual-form manifestation.’”
“Technically accurate while maintaining confidentiality,” I defended. “And they’ve been very well-received. My tenure committee was quite impressed.”
“My brilliant mate.” He pulled me closer, yawning against my hair. “Writing groundbreaking research that no one realizes is actually about their local barkeeper.”
I smiled against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my cheek. “Someone has to document it all. For posterity.”
“And for science,” he added sleepily.
“Always for science,” I agreed, though my own eyes were growing heavy.
As sleep claimed us both, I felt the comfortable weight of the pendant against my chest, the new ring on my finger, and the warm presence of the extraordinary being who had transformed my life as completely as he transformed beneath the full moon.
In the morning, we would begin planning our dual ceremonies, navigating the complexities of combining human and Guardian traditions. We would face the usual challenges of an interspecies relationship—full moon schedules, pack politics, and my ongoing academic commitments at the university.
But for now, wrapped in Rafferty’s arms with the certainty of our future together, I was exactly where I belonged—in a world where legends walked among us, magic was an observable phenomenon, and love transcended the boundaries between species.
Not bad for a skeptic who’d come to debunk a small-town myth.