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Chapter 10
Lacey attempted to remember how to breathe again as she laid face down, her body aching with the fading rush of adrenaline and pleasure. As Mason withdrew from her, her body yearned for his return.
Christ, what was it about this man? He’d given her one soul-ripping orgasm after another, left her breathless, and she still wanted him to take her again.
He wasn’t a werewolf. He was an incubus. Designed to induce sexual pleasure from innocent women, stealing their lifeforce and corrupting their souls.
No. He was the fucking devil.
And Lacey wanted nothing more than to sell her soul to him for one more round.
The mattress bounced as Mason settled beside her, his fingers curling around her upper arm and urging her into his side. Lacey rolled towards him, her body spent and breathless. A low contented moan slipped over her lips as she found a comfortable position next to him.
Relishing the heat of his body, and the rather magnificent view of that ripped chest, she breathed in the intoxicating smell of sex and sandalwood, vowing that nothing had ever smelled so good as that.
Mason’s fingers lazily drew erotic patterns over her bare arm, her core already purring at the thought of round two. Neither said a word, happy enough to just lay there and languish in the aftermath of their ferocious lovemaking.
Eventually, Lacey shifted her position, and a jolt of pain rang up her shoulder. Sitting up, her nipples standing erect, ready for more of Mason’s attention, Lacey’s fingers searched for the tender spot.
“Oh shit,” she breathed as she found something she never expected, and dread slithered cold fingers down each knot of her spine.
Mason’s bite mark.
But it wasn’t just any mark.
It can’t be. It never happened with Nathan.
Despite their young age, they’d given into their passion and love. She could still feel his bite on her neck even now, hot and exquisite, but never once had it pulsed with heat and energy as Mason’s did right now.
Nathan had bitten her more than once. Several times, each one harder than the time before. And each time had been disappointed when it hadn’t happened.
But it had now. With Mason.
The mating mark.
A symbol she belonged to him, that he belonged to her. It represented the bond they had together, a wedding band of sorts. When she’d finally got him to open up about his kinky little habit, he’d admitted that it happened with all shifters who found the one fate had decided would be right for them.
It didn’t matter if the shifter was wolf, bear, fox, phoenix, and their mates another shifter or human – if they were the one, and they bit you, the mating mark would appear. And despite it never happening with them, Nathan had still loved her, still wanted to be the one to stand with her.
Lacey inhaled a deep breath, but it didn’t stop her heart flinging against her rib cage. Nor did it stop the energy that emanated from the mark itself.
It threaded through her body, wrapping itself around her veins and heart. Every inch of her body radiated with the same power. If she closed her eyes right then and then, she could imagine it as a red string, joining with the thread bound around Mason’s heart.
Shit. This wasn’t what I wanted!
Mason’s eyes swept upwards, grabbing her attention, his mouth swollen with their kisses. Worry crept at the edges of his features. “Don’t be scared, Lacey. It’s just a bite. I got a little carried away,” he told her, trying to sound composed but she could hear the undercurrent of apprehension beneath it.
Whether it was because he didn’t want this either or because he thought she may think he was a sexual pervert, she couldn’t be certain.
Swallowing, Lacey stared back at him, uncertain how to speak. After Nathan, she swore she’d never be with anyone long-term. A night or two was fine, but nothing more than that. And now, here she was, with the mating mark on her shoulder.
And werewolves mated for life.
They were bound.
Forever.
Fuck.
