“I’ve never felt particularly attached to being human,” I admit. “I’ve always felt like I was waiting for something, you know? Like there was some part of me missing.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel complete.” I meet his gaze across the small table, letting him see the truth in my eyes. “You complete me.”
The confession hangs between us, heavy with implication. He sets down his fork with careful precision, and when he looks at me again, there’s something dangerous in his expression.
“You can’t say things like that,” he says, his voice strained.
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me want to bend you over this table and claim you right here, right now.” The crude words send heat spiraling through me, and I have to press my thighs together to ease the ache building there. “Because the beast in me doesn’t understand patience or propriety. It only understands need.”
“Maybe I don’t want patience,” I say, deliberately provocative. “Maybe I want the beast.”
His chair scrapes against the floor as he stands abruptly, his movements sharp with barely controlled aggression. “Jessa.”
“What?” I slide off my stool, moving toward him with deliberate sensuality. “You keep telling me I’m not ready, but you won’t let me be the judge of that. You keep holding back when all I want is for you to let go.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Don’t I?” I reach for the hem of his shirt—my only clothing—and pull it up. His eyes track the movement like a predator watching prey. “I’m asking for my mate to stop treating me like I’ll break at the first rough touch.”
The shirt clears my head and drops to the floor, leaving me naked in his kitchen. His breathing goes ragged, and I can see the exact moment his control frays.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his gaze devouring every inch of exposed skin. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
“Then touch me,” I challenge, taking another step closer. “Stop holding back and touch me like you want to.”
That’s all it takes. His control snaps like a rubber band, and suddenly I’m pressed against the kitchen counter with his body caging me in. His mouth crashes down on mine, all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger, and I give as good as I get.
His hands are everywhere—gripping my hips, sliding up my ribs, tangling in my hair. When he lifts me onto the counter, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer, desperate for more contact.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against my throat, his fangs scraping over my pulse point. “To drive me fucking insane with need?”
“Yes,” I gasp, arching into his touch as his hands cup my breasts. “I want you wild. I want you to lose control.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he warns, but his thumbs are already circling my nipples, making me moan and writhe against him. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Good,” I breathe, pulling his head down for another searing kiss. “I don’t want you to stop.”
We’re balanced on the knife’s edge now, teetering between restraint and surrender. I can feel his hardness pressing against me through his pants, can smell the musk of his arousal mixing with mine. The bond thrums between us, urging us toward completion, toward the claiming that will bind us together forever.
But then he’s pulling back, his breathing harsh and his eyes wild. “Not yet,” he forces out, though I can see how much the words cost him. “Eighteen days, Jessa. Eighteen more days, and then I’ll give you everything you want.”
“Why wait?” I ask, frustration making my voice sharp. “What’s so special about the Solstice?”
“Power,” he says simply. “The magic will be at its peak then. The claiming will be… intense. If we do it too early, before your body is fully prepared, it could hurt you. Kill you, even.”
The admission sobers me, even through the haze of arousal. He’s not holding back to torture us both—he’s protecting me, even from himself.
“Eighteen days,” I repeat, and slide down from the counter. His shirt is still on the floor, and I pick it up, pulling it back on with deliberate slowness. “But I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
“What do you mean?”
I smile, the expression all feminine promise and threat. “I mean I’m going to spend the next eighteen days showing you exactly what you’re missing. Testing your control. Pushing your boundaries.”
His eyes flash, and I can see the beast stirring beneath the surface. “That’s dangerous.”
