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“Only if you give me that consent here and now. You don’t have to, Quinley. We can wait; give it time. There’s no pressure. My ultimate goal is to have it eventually.”
She licked her lower lip, her eyes diving deep into his; watching and searching. “You have it now.”
His hardening cock twitched. “You’re sure? You understand what that will mean for you? That no matter where in the house you are, no matter what you’re doing, no matter if you’re asleep or awake, you’re my toy at all times? A treasured toy. One I’d never hurt or misuse. But one that will be there for me to fuck whenever I want it.”
“I understand,” she rasped.
“Can I trust that you will always speak up if you’re not down for whatever is happening? You’re a pleaser by nature, I get that. But it would never please me to realize you’re not enjoying what’s happening. I would sense it. I would know. I would feel like a bag of shit and, worse, so would you. My wants don’t come before your needs, you understand?”
“I’m not someone who’d fail to speak up. If I don’t like something or I’m just not feeling in the mood or whatever, I’ll tell you.”
Reassured, he nodded. “To be clear, you have the same permission where I’m concerned. Don’t feel you ever need to ask to speak or touch me or anything else—I’m looking for you to give up control, not be a mindless participant. You want to struggle, struggle. You want to be passive, be passive. You want to make your own demands, make your own demands. Do whatever you want… unless or until I tell you otherwise.”
“Are we done talking now?” she asked, clearly eager to move things along.
That made him smile. “Not quite. I know some shifters in our situation wait until a bond forms before they brand each other. I get it. Brands are permanent. But to wait would be to start off this mating with doubts. I don’t want to do that.”
Also, putting that mark on her would be the only way to make his cat consider her his. “I want to brand you tonight, mark you as mine. I want you to do the same to me. But if you’re not ready for that, I’ll understand.”
She swallowed. “I want us to do it tonight. I don’t feel a need to wait.”
Satisfaction flamed in his belly. “Good.” He snaked his hand around her throat, taking a firm grip of it, power flooding his veins. He could do whatever he wanted to her. The knowledge of that wasn’t merely a thrill, it was liberating. He could be himself. Wholly himself.
This extent of power wasn’t something he’d had before. No dominant would give him that level of control—it just wasn’t in their makeup. He got it. Because it wasn’t in his.
But it was in Quinley’s, and he fucking loved that.
Dipping his head, he tipped up her own and caught her bottom lip between his teeth; gave it a demanding tug. “Open.” She parted her lips, and he delved right in. Licked into her mouth. Took her taste inside him, let it mark him.
He kept the kiss soft, lazy, and sensual. Fluid as liquid.
As she rose on her tiptoes for more, he flicked the tip of her canine with his tongue to stir up her cat, wanting her raring to bite. Quinley’s lavender-and-vanilla scent took on a feral note; telling him her animal was very near the surface. It snagged his cat’s attention.
Isaiah broke the kiss, drinking in the need-drunk look on her face. “Now”—he fingered the soft material of her jumpsuit—“take it off.”
Quinley blinked, pulled out of her daze by the punch of dominance in his voice. She watched as he backed up a step and folded his arms, his expression molded into a mask of absolute authority. Her mindset shifted that easily—she took a mental step back, let her brain power down, and focused on only him as she lowered the side-zipper of her jumpsuit.
His gaze burned with approval. “Good girl.”
Excitement tumbling in her belly, she peeled down the suit and let it puddle at her feet. Her bra went next, then her panties. His gaze tracked her every move, his focus steady and unshifting. Once she’d kicked off her heels, she used her foot to slide the pile aside.
She looked up at him… and immediately became immobilized by the dangerous predatory heat that gleamed in his gaze. Sparks of tension prickled the air and skipped along her bare skin. She’d never felt more exposed, naked, or aware of herself.
He began to circle her, reaching out to let the pads of his fingers idly trace, press, glide, and tease. His touch was light but transmitted pure avarice and male ownership.
“So much to play with.” There was more grit in his voice than usual, turning it throaty. “You are beautiful, do you know that?” A distracted question. He was busy shaping and palming her ass.
A shaky breath shuddered out of her. Already she was damp, anticipation winding her tight and gnawing at her patience.
Still behind her, he suckled on the crook of her neck. “I think I’ll put my claiming brand right here. You’re going to wear it with pride, just as I will yours.”
“Isaiah.” It was a plea.
“You never have to beg me, Quinley,” he assured her. “I won’t ever ask that of you. I want you to trust that I’ll give you what you need… even though I might not give it to you straight away.”
Again, he circled her. This time, he didn’t only explore with his fingers. He sucked on a nipple. Drew his teeth over the other. Nipped at her shoulder. Scored his blunt nails down her back. Briefly slipped a finger between her slick folds.
Basically, he teased her body into a state of such agonized suspension that her legs trembled. She couldn’t be sure her knees wouldn’t give out on her.
