“I want you to be with me for the rest of my life,” he said. “I know that with you by my side, I’ll be strong enough to face anything that comes at me. I want my claiming mark on your neck, so that every man who looks at you knows I’m the luckiest wolf alive. And I want your claiming mark on my neck, so that every woman knows she shouldn’t even bother trying, because I am happily hitched.”
“You…you want…” She felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room.
“Jamie Roberts, will you be my mate?”
She should have told him the truth, right then, right there, but she didn’t.
There seemed to be only one word she was capable of uttering.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He glanced at the windows. The curtains were drawn; nobody could see in. His breathing grew heavy, and he moved closer to her –then swept both of the dishes off the sturdy oak table with a crash. He picked her up and put her on the table top.
“Miles, there’s a whole restaurant full of empty tables,” she protested.
“Yeah, but it’s more dramatic this way,” he said. “Shut up, woman – don’t ruin the moment.” But a smile played on his lips.
He reached over, grabbed the front of her shirt, and ripped it open.
“I’m claiming you now,” he growled.
Chapter Twenty
She melted in his arms as they kissed. It wasn’t gentle or exploratory, it was just a raw expression of need.You’re mine. I’m yours. And our bodies know it.
She moaned throatily as he slipped off her shoes and yanked down her pants, throwing her clothes over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. He stripped off his own clothes just as quickly until they were both gloriously naked, pressed against each other as they touched and tasted and claimed.
Dakota turned and gave him her back. Between wolves, that was a big deal. A sign of absolute trust – and she did trust him. No matter what, she knew Miles would always keep her safe, as part of his pack. As his mate.
He crowded up close behind her, sandwiching her between his hot, muscular body and the cool surface of the table pressing into her lower belly.
She could feel his warm breath puffing against the nape of her neck, stirring the fine hairs, and it sent shivers of anticipation over her skin. He pushed his hips against her backside, letting her feel the rigid length of his erection, telling her without words how much he wanted her.
Dakota arched her back, offering him access to her pussy. She was beyond wet and ready for him. She moaned her approval as he wrapped her hair around his fist and pushed her down against the table top, then kicked her feet apart, opening her to him still further.
The table top was cold, and her pebbled nipples pressed against its varnished surface. It flickered across her mind that she’d probably never be able to eat here again without blushing like a maniac – or without her panties getting damp.
Miles lined the head of his cock up with her wet slit and rubbed up and down, lubricating himself with her juices and teasing her – so close to pushing inside her, but holding back; tormenting them both. She moaned and wriggled back against him, and he gave a low growl and tugged on her hair, holding her still.
Then he slid slowly inside her, exerting rigid control, making her ache for him with every stiff inch. Dakota groaned, her fingers squeaking on the varnished table top as she sought for purchase and pushed back against him.
Miles wrapped his arm around her hip and played with her clit as he thrust in and out of her. Each stroke of his cock hit her G-spot, stealing her breath away. As he pumped into her wet, willing body, he flicked and circled his fingers, driving her higher and higher towards a blistering, mind-shattering orgasm.
She writhed helplessly as hot, shivery waves of bliss washed over her and her pussy clenched around his cock, milking a wild groan from him. As he pumped rapidly into her, drawing out the last spasms of her crisis, his weight pressed against her back and she felt the sharp edges of his teeth against her throat.
She twisted her head to the side, exposing her throat, panting as the aftershocks of her orgasm shuddered through her. Miles bit down, the faint coppery scent of blood reaching her nostrils and the sting in the flesh of her throat shooting straight to her pussy as he marked her.
She was still high on his mark, her skin singing with sensitivity, when she felt Miles’s cock slip out of her. He turned her and cupped her face between his hands, gazing into her eyes. His expression was intense and possessive, and she knew his blood was thrumming with the significance of the moment, just as hers was.
Miles dipped his head and kissed her tenderly, then he lifted her back onto the table, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist so he could slide back inside her in one strong, purposeful thrust.
She twined her arms around his neck as he fucked her, moaning and burying her face in the sweat-damp crook of his neck. He smelled so good – musky and masculine; of clean sweat and of home.
Miles groaned and shuddered – it was obvious that he was close to coming, barely holding back. His skin was fever-hot and his breathing was ragged. His biceps bunched and flexed, his arms caging her in on either side, and he gave a fractured moan that told her he was about to lose control. A sense of raw power swept through her, and with it the fierce, undeniable desire to claim him as her mate.
As Miles came inside her, groaning his release, Dakota sank her teeth into his neck. The thick, metallic taste of blood flooded her tastebuds and Miles’s groan fractured into a broken shout of triumph and pleasure.
They slowly came back to themselves, sore and sticky with sweat but utterly blissed out, Dakota’s stomach grumbled. She felt a fleeting sense of embarrassment, but Miles just helped her to sit upright and kissed her soundly.
