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“You’re not going anywhere, sexy lady.”
Good Lord! She wished she could record this event, just to ensure the lust hadn’t driven her mad, made her reinvent the wheel by perhaps deluding her into believing sweet nothings had been whispered in her ear, delivered in another round of heart-pounding, jaw-dropping kisses.
She was drowning in a sea of desire and Marcus probably assumed she had no idea why she was inexplicably drawn to him. Thanks to Bart and the rampant rumors in small town Pleasant, Suzette understood precisely what was going on here. The gossipmongers had talked about Pageant as if she were a storybook character, supercharged by love, empowered by mate lust.
Oh yes. Suzette understood what was happening to her.
This sexy man was a shifter, part wolf and part human, and he was claiming her as his mate. The urgency in his kiss fed her own lust and it was a crazy kind of claiming, a maddening kind of longing, and one which worsened by the second.
One moment, she just needed a minute to regroup. Then, she’d shove this guy away and gather her wits about her. To her surprise, he paused then.
She then took her moment. Instead of using the time wisely, she gripped his shirt and slammed her body against his, crawling all over him now, eager and willing to do whatever necessary to make herself available, to allow Marcus the opportunity to claim her.
Considering the timing of this claiming, she couldn’t help but question his motives. Why was it so important to “claim” her now?
He gazed into her eyes as if he already held her in such high regard, as if he already possessed so much compassion for her, so much…love. She gasped then and her hands went to the base of his neck. She traced his veins, feeling the rapid pulse of his excitement vibrating against her fingertips.
“Why is this happening now?”
“You’re my mate,” Marcus said simply, ducking his head for another kiss.
She turned her head and stared at the wall of photographs. The recently fallen weren’t there alongside the other deceased individuals. The last of their town’s police force had scattered after the town had fallen victim to senseless killings, murders that shouldn’t have happened. Innocent people had become a madman’s prey and now the MC, wolf shifters from around the country, had been called in to help.
“What’s the rush?”
“You’re mine,” he whispered, nipping at her lips.
“Am I theirs, too?”
He stilled then and she searched his face for some semblance of an explanation. When he didn’t answer her, she jerked his shirt and held him within a breath of their next kiss. “Answer me, Marcus. Do I belong to them, too?”
He slowly nodded.
She gasped at his unspoken reply. “That’s why you’re in such a hurry.” She trembled at the thought of being some egotistical male’s prize. “That’s why you want to ‘mate’ with me so badly. You want to fuck me before they have a chance.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not true.”
They stared at one another for a minute more and then the raw and possessive male rolled to the fore. He ground his hips against hers and cupped her behind, forcing her against the firm rigidness of his pulsing cock.
“I like it when you talk dirty to me, Suzette.” He palmed her butt, dragging her hips up and down, forcing her crotch against the heavy weight of his erection.
“I didn’t.”
“Fuck.” The word fell from his lips in a guttural manner. “Say it again.” He kissed her then, pulling her against his erection as he thrust his tongue inside her mouth.
“Say it.” He nipped at her bottom lip and his eyes darkened. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”
“Fuck.” Her mouth fell open as his worked along her trunk and chest. Her wet pussy clenched around the emptiness as she rocked against him then. She wanted to fuck him. She wanted him to throw her down on the floor and just strip her clothes away from her body and pound into her with all the passion and heat she’d read about in romance novels.
Instead, her sensibility won out again.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, turning her head away from him and loving the way his hot breath against her ear drove her back to his lips.
“You can.”
She shook her head. “No.” Her fingers locked around the tiny curls at the base of his neck. “I’m a mother. Good moms don’t make out with strange men.”
“I’m not a strange man,” he assured her, pushing her arm down the front of his body. “I’ll be your man soon enough.”
