Page 77 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

Felix had kissed me.

“Kit, I—” he started, those wide dark eyes searching my face like he was looking for permission or forgiveness or maybe just confirmation that the world hadn’t ended.

Something snapped inside me. Some last thread of restraint I’d been clinging to for two years.

My wolf surged forward, feral with want. A single taste, and I was utterly, completely undone.

I buried my hand in his hair—heavenly, soft black silk slipping between my fingers—and kissed him back.

Felix’s lips pressed against mine again, tentative at first, slightly off-angle until he adjusted with a small, surprised sound. Then with growing urgency as he tried to follow my lead, our mouths slicking together. I nudged his mouth open—gently, so gently, because he was precious and breakable and I’d already done so much damage—and when his lips parted for me, when our tongues met for the first time, any semblance of careful control shattered completely.

No more gentleness.

My wolf roared to life, two years of desperate longing condensed into a single moment of claiming. My other hand found the back of Felix’s neck, holding him to me as I devoured his mouth, drinking in every small sound he made, every tremor that ran through his frame.

He was vanilla and warmth and something indefinably Felix. Something that made me want to never breathe anything but him again. Something that made me want to consume him entirely, to crawl inside his skin and never let him go.

Felix’s palm pressed flat against my bare chest, skin to skin, and my brain stopped working.

For a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to push me away. That reality had crashed back in and he’d remembered who I was, what I’d done. But no—his hand just stayed there, warm and steady over my thundering heart, fingers splayed wide like he needed to touch me to ground himself.

The forest around us faded to nothing. There was only Felix beneath my hands, Felix’s mouth moving against mine—shy, soft, searching—our tongues sliding together in a dance that had my wolf practically howling, Felix making these small breathy noises that were going to be the death of me.

When we finally broke apart—lungs screaming for air, lips swollen—I pressed my forehead against his, breathing hard. His scent was different now. Warmer. Wanting. Every sense dialled up to eleven, his smell wrapping around me like a promise.

“Felix,” I whispered, and I could taste his name on my tongue. The taste of my mate.

But something had shifted in his expression. The sparkle was still there, but underneath it, panic crept in. It built behind his eyes like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Felix lurched up to a sitting position, eyes wide, breathing erratic. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

“What?” I followed him up, confusion cutting through the haze of want. “Why are you sorry?”

He stammered something incoherent, not looking at me, his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder like he couldn’t bear to meet my eyes. That panic I’d seen building reached full bloom, written across every line of his face.

My heart cracked clean in half. Of course. Of course this was how it would go. One perfect moment, and then the spell would break.

I placed a careful hand on his knee, my voice gentler than I felt. “It’s okay if you regret it. We can pretend it never happened.” Each syllable felt like swallowing glass. Was this the ultimate punishment for my actions? One taste of him that I’d never be able to forget, but could never have again?

Felix shook his head quickly. “No, Kit. I don’t regret it.”

The contradiction made no sense, but before I could ask what he meant, he was shuffling forward on his knees, closer to me again. His movements were hesitant, shy, but determined.

When he reached for me this time, it was with trembling fingers that barely brushed my jawline before settling there properly. His touch was so gentle it made my chest ache.

This kiss was different. Slower. Calmer. Like he was trying to learn the shape of my mouth, the texture of my lips. Trying to get used to me. I followed his lead, keeping my movements careful and measured, letting him set the pace even though my wolf was clawing at my insides, demanding more.

The position was awkward with both of us on our knees, so I carefully—so carefully—guided him towards me, giving him every opportunity to pull away. When he didn’t resist, I pulled him slowly into my lap.

Only once he was settled there, his legs bracketing my hips, did I remember that I was very naked.

Too late now. Felix was nestled against my body, his clothed chest pressing against my bare one, and I was completely overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the weight of him, the way he fit against me like he’d been made for this exact position.

We kissed again, deeper this time, and if this was my only taste of him—if this was all I’d ever get—then I was determined to drown in it. His tongue slid against mine in a rhythm that had me gripping his waist, probably too tightly, as Felix tightened his own grip around my shoulders.

When he shifted slightly in my lap, I couldn’t fight the inevitable anymore.

Arousal slammed into me with the force of a lightning strike, white-hot and immediate. Blood abandoned my brain in a dizzying rush, flooding south with devastating efficiency. I tried to think of anything else—the weapons inventory, monthly reports, the dishes always in the Killigrew Street sink—but Felix was warm and pliant in my arms, making these small sounds against my mouth, and my body had other ideas. My cock hardened to granite, harder than I ever remembered being in my life, throbbing against Felix’s ass with an intensity that made me see stars.