18. Chapter Eighteen #2
“Tell me what?” I don’t dare to hope. But he wouldn’t be holding and caressing me like this if he were ending things, right?
“That I love you.”
The cracking in my heart ceases. I stop breathing, moving, blinking, afraid I misheard him. If I make a sound, the spell will break. He’ll take back those three words, and my heart will never be whole again.
“I’m in love with you, Emily. Completely, hopelessly, unquestionably in love with you.”
He captures my mouth with his, not giving me time to react or respond to his confession.
But it doesn’t matter. My heart is whole and in his hands.
Where it’s always been, where it’s meant to be.
I press myself closer to him, pouring all my love into the kiss, using the intimate gesture as my response.
His fingers tangle in my hair, gripping tight.
Tugging. Urging me to bare my throat, to submit to him.
I give in, tilting my chin so he can pepper kisses down my jawline. “I love you too, Harrison.” The words I’ve held in for months—years—leave me with ease, like I’ve been saying them forever. “I want nothing more than to be yours.”
“Em…” He pauses his kisses and smiles, that smug, playful smile I’ve grown fond of over the years I’ve known him.
“You’re already mine, Em. My lycan and I are sure of it.
And in two weeks, I’ll finally get to make it official.
Put my mark right here”—he blows softly on that sensitive spot that has my toes curling—“on your pretty little neck.”
He kisses my marking spot, and my entire body jerks in response as a jolt of pleasure zips straight to my pussy.
“Oh, Goddess, yes.” I moan and grind my hips against him, already searching for my release.
He’s relentless in the attention he lavishes on my neck—kissing, sucking, nipping, and biting—stopping only to ask, “Do you want that?”
“So…” I groan and scrape my nails against his chest, overwhelmed by his kisses. “So much.”
I’m so close to finishing already, wound up like I haven’t had an orgasm in days, even though he had me screaming his name this morning. Heat thrums through me, coiling like a spring. I shiver and pulse my hips to find the perfect balance of friction and pressure to give me my release.
Then he grips my hips tightly, so I can’t move even an inch. He tears himself from my neck and lifts me from his lap, so I’m standing in front of him, breathless, trembling, and desperate.
“What else do you want?” He slides his fingertips beneath my shirt. Slow. Torturous. He takes his time, lifting the hem at the rate of a millimeter per second.
It’s too. Fucking. Slow.
“I want you…” I rip the shirt over my head and drop it to the floor.
“Inside me…” I work my jeans open and yank them down my hips with my underwear, leaving both in a rumpled pile next to my shirt.
Then I unhook my bra and let it fall with the rest of my clothes before climbing onto the couch.
I get on my knees and lean over the armrest opposite Harrison, exposing my bare, soaked pussy. “Right now.”
“Needy and demanding,” he grunts, digging his fingers into the couch cushions as I wiggle my ass.
“You like it.” I arch my back more, sighing as my nipples brush against the armrest. Then I lower my fingers to my clit, rubbing a circle around it before lifting the digits to my mouth and licking my arousal from them.
“No. I don’t.” Harrison’s voice is rough. Raw. Pained. He’s enjoying my little show, but at what cost to his composure? “I fucking love it.”
His restraint finally snaps, and he dives forward while also removing his shirt.
He bites my ass cheek, hard enough to leave marks, and I yell in a mix of surprise, delight, and pain.
He chuckles and immediately kisses that same spot, soothing the slight burn his teeth left behind as he works his belt and jeans open.
Where my undressing was calculated and seductive, his is frantic and fumbling.
He breathes hard, his exhales teasing my pussy as he continues to leave little kisses all over my ass, working me into as frenzied a state as him.
He finally swipes his tongue through my entrance, but the pleasure ends as quickly as it begins.
Standing up for a moment, he tugs his jeans and boxers off, then kneels behind me on the couch.
He thrusts inside me in a smooth motion. “Oh, fuck!” His fingers dig into my hips. He holds himself still for the briefest of moments, chin tucked against his chest as he catches his breath and I adjust to his dick.
And then he’s slamming into me, rough and desperate. The pace he sets is punishing.
This isn’t lovemaking. It’s a pure, primal claiming.
I push back against him, encouraging the roughness. “Show me again, Harrison,” I pant, barely able to get the words out with how hard and fast he’s pounding into me. “Show me where you’re going to put your mark.”
He growls, grips my hair, and tugs me higher.
His chest presses against my back, and his lips find my throat, and not once does his thrusting falter.
“Right here, Em.” He breathes hotly on my neck, and his other hand finds my clit.
“I’m going to mark you right here.” His teeth scrape up the side of my throat, sharp and promising.
“I’m going to mark you over and over and over. ”
He thrusts deep inside me—deeper than I thought possible—and I see stars. His fangs continue tracing designs on my neck, and his finger on my clit draws matching patterns. He pulls almost all the way out, then slams in again, hitting that same satisfying spot deep in my pussy.
“Yes, Harrison,” I encourage. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”
“Never. I will never stop loving you. Just. Like. This.” He punctuates each promise with a thrust of his hips and a stroke of my clit.
My legs shake as pleasure pools low in my abdomen. I keep it at bay though, waiting for him to be ready too, so we can come together.
“Don’t hold it in, Em.” Harrison whispers the order against my neck. He knows my body too well for me to hide my impending orgasm from him. “Come for me. Show me how much you enjoy being mine.”
He growls that last word, and the vibrations from his chest, the sensual press of his lips, and the incomparable pleasure rippling through me as he once more hits that earth-shattering spot sends me over the edge of ecstasy.
“Harrison!”
I scream his name as I fall apart, and he clamps onto my neck, sucking hard as his fangs tease my skin. Not piercing, not marking, but right there, reminding me how close we are to claiming each other for real.
As I pulse around his cock and grind my ass against him, he groans out his release, coaxing out a second orgasm from me.
He thrusts into me with every wave of our combined euphoria, continuing the movements long after we’ve wrung the last drops of pleasure from each other, as if he wants to ensure all of his scent is embedded deep within me.
When we’re both too spent to continue, Harrison rolls us onto our sides, so my back is pressed to his chest and his face is buried in my neck.
He massages and soothes my exhausted body, sending tiny shocks of pleasure through me when he touches my sensitive nipples or the ticklish spot on my left thigh.
“Did you mean what you said?” I ask.
He growls and grips me tighter. “Are you really still questioning me on this? After everything we just said and did?”
“No, no.” I spin in his arms to face him. “About your lycan. You said he’s sure.”
He holds my gaze, brown eyes swirling with the presence of his lycan, both watching me and listening to me. “We’re sure,” he confirms. “And in two weeks, nothing is going to stop us from claiming you as our mate.”