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“We can’t.” With a groan like that of a man being tortured, he pulled back. “No—”
“I want this,” she whispered, meeting his horrified stare. “This isn’t just your choice to make anymore. I want this. I do.”
Even if it didn’t seem to make sense that she could feel so strongly for someone after a couple of weeks of knowing them.
Her voice echoed with a conviction she’d never heard before. Neither had he. Without giving him the chance to move, her hand found the planes of his cheek, and she smoothed back wayward strands of black hair until nothing obscured her view of those piercing gray eyes.
“I want you. I do.”
To her shock, he didn’t waste his breath arguing. Instead, he went limp, and his forehead collided with hers with a sigh of defeat. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he grated. “But I can show you.”
Her thoughts quivered as a foreign pressure intruded against her conscience. It was like before, when he recovered her memories—but firmer. Persistent.
A part of her would always fear this level of intimacy—she couldn’t help it. Though, for once, she wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted.
And she wanted him, no matter the price.
This washerchoice.
And he was no match.
31
Bill groaned, partly in awe and partly in relief. Would Loren Connors ever cease to surprise him? He doubted that.
He naïvely thought he’d already known her mind inside and out, despite however short-lived their previous bond was. He’d been wrong. Entering her mind now was a stark contrast from the horrific aftermath of Fred Connors’ assault. Her fear didn’t threaten to drown him this time. Her thoughts enveloped him eagerly, with her body acting as his sole anchor to the rest of the world.
What had been meant as a show of force—to convince her to change her mind—became something else in an instant, more akin to an earnest probing of her thoughts and feelings. Greedily, he took whatever she was willing to let him see.
He couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to, the decision was no longer his—the lycan within him howled with the need to fulfill this one driving instinct.
Dominate.
And she gave herself to him in a way that astounded him. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation. No fear. When their eyes met, he barely recognized the woman gazing back, her eyes blazing with a naked acceptance that blew his mind.
And a challenge.
She shifted her balance, catching him off guard. The next thing he knew, she straddled him fearlessly, her hair streaming down her shoulders. Her eyes latched onto his chest, and he could see the intention in her gaze—feel it.
And yet he didn’t even fight as she nuzzled at his throat.
And then bit.
“Fuck.” He hissed through his teeth as his eyelids fluttered at the sensation of her biting deep, right through the ragged remains of her initial mark. Within, his wolf howled with acceptance, relishing the wound. Her claim.
And his canines throbbed in their gums as he fisted his fingers through her hair, pulled her close, and did the same. She whimpered as he seized a delicate strip of flesh along her collar bone. The wound bled. She would scar, but they would wear their marks in unison.
As they should.
Even as he finally released her, he remained there, his mouth against her neck, too overwhelmed to face her. Her genuine joy washed over him in an intoxicating rush. There was no comparison to the fragile bond linking them before. This connection was so much richer and deeper. Endless.
Soon, he lost track of what was purely mental and what was physical. He shifted his weight, desperate to get closer to her. As if watching a stranger, he saw his hand plunge between her legs, easing them further apart.
His cock throbbed, aching to fulfill this driving impulse that had been building since he forged the first bond—no, before that. When he caught her scent for the first time. He’d wanted her since then.
And now…
There was no holding back.
