His lips find my claim mark, brushing over it lightly, and I close my eyes and moan at the sensation. It’s electric.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs against me between kisses. “Never enough. I’d die for you. I’d kill for you. I’d tear this whole island apart if you asked me to.”
His words, raw, make my lion lift her head. He pushes himself up, then pulls off his shirt. He reaches for my nightgown, helping me pull it over my head, then strips out of his pajama pants, leaving us both completely naked.
He pushes me back onto the bed and climbs on top of me, spreading my legs wide with his knees. My tail comes around, seeking him again, but he catches it just below the tassel and kisses it gently.
“No, baby. No.” He kisses the tassel again, slow and reverent. “We took care of you, now it’s time to take care of Mara.”
“Huh? Aaron...” I’m confused, still dazed from the intensity of what we just shared.
He releases my tail and it falls down on the bed in submission. My lion, for once, seems content to let him lead.
“I think my dick is broken,” he says with a rueful smile, “but I’m going to find a way to make love to you.”
“We just...” I start, but he cuts me off, grabbing himself and sliding inside me again. I gasp at the sensation, while he winces slightly.
“Yep, it’s broken,” he confirms, but doesn’t pull away.
I push at his chest, concerned. “We can stop?—“
“No, we can’t,” he insists, his eyes finding mine, intense. “I want to make love to you.”
He kisses me again, his tongue running along my lower lip. His hand moves to my breast, squeezing gently, thumb brushing over my nipple. He starts to move inside me, slow and careful at first. I’m still slick from our combined release, making his movements smooth and easy.
I spread my legs wider, giving him better access. With each stroke, I can feel him hardening again, gaining confidence as the discomfort fades.
“I love you, Mara,” he whispers against my lips. “I love you more than anything.”
“Aaron,” I breathe, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his voice.
But he doesn’t let me finish. He keeps driving into me, his kisses growing more passionate, his movements more purposeful. This is different from anything we’ve shared before. There’s a desperation in the way he touches me, caresses me, the way he holds me down and moves.
I feel loved. Chosen. His hips move against mine in a rhythm that has tears in my eyes before I know they’re coming. I’ve never been touched like this.
He picks up the pace, his strokes becoming harder, faster, driving deeper. The pressure builds inside me again, a different kind of orgasm approaching—not the sharp, violent peak of before, but something deeper.
When it hits, it crashes through me with a force that makes my legs shake. “Goddamn, Aaron,” I cry out, my claws digging into his back, drawing blood.
He doesn’t seem to notice the pain. He leans down and licks a tear from my cheek, his tongue gentle against me.
“I love you,” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
An urge rises in me that I can’t control. Saliva pools in my mouth, my teeth growing sharper. The pull to claim him is overwhelming, unlike anything I’ve felt before. As a lion shifter, I’ve never needed the pull of the mate bond to claim my mate—it’s a choice, not a compulsion. But right now, it feels like something I have to do.
“Aaron,” I try to warn him, but he’s too lost in the moment to hear me.
He reaches down, pushing my legs back further, opening me up completely. “Mara, I’m close,” he groans, his movements becoming erratic. “I’m so close, baby.”
I lose control. A roar tears from my throat—“MINE!”—and I sink my teeth into his neck, right at the junction where it meets his shoulder.
“Ah, damn!” he cries out, but he doesn’t stop moving. If anything, the pain spurs him on. He thrusts a few more times, hard and deep, before I feel him pulsing inside me, his body shuddering with release.
Warm blood pools into my mouth, rich and metallic and somehow sweet. The taste of him is intoxicating. The feeling of claiming him, of marking him as mine for all to see, settles deep in my belly. No one can take him from me now.
I lick the wound gently, cleaning it, sealing it with my saliva as his seed continues to pump inside me. I send a silent prayer to Mother Fate that she’ll bless us with a cub.
Aaron collapses on top of me, his breathing already evening out, his body heavy with exhaustion. I hold him close, gently rubbing his back, feeling the raised welts where my claws have marked him. The wounds are already starting to heal.
