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I dipped my head, placing my mouth on the top of her left breast, directly over her beautiful heart. Then I struck, sinking my fangs into the soft flesh, loving the moan of pleasure that spilled from her.
It was heady, intoxicating, and it sent need careening through me.
I forced myself to stop, to pull back and growl, “Now. Mark me, Sunday. Make me yours.”
Face still twisted with pleasure, she called on her wolf, her teeth lengthening to deadly points. Then she whispered her lips down the side of my throat before giving me exactly what I asked for.
There was a hiss of pain, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure so intense my knees threatened to buckle. I tightened my hold on her, trying with the frayed edges of my control not to come until she did. I wanted us to jump over the edge the same way I wanted to do everything with her. Together.
As our bond solidified, I let loose a groan, deep and guttural, and began fucking her in earnest. Our combined climaxes reached the crest at the same time. She dug her claws into my back, scoring my skin, amplifying the euphoria with pain, and I cried out her name as the wood of the confessional cracked and she brought me to my knees.
When she removed her lips from my throat and cradled my face in her hands, all I saw was my future staring back at me.
“I love you, Sunday. Forever and ever.”
She smiled, looking radiant and damn near angelic until a wicked glint sparkled in her eyes.
“Amen.”
Bonus Epilogue
ASHER
Aurora Springs, Alaska
That witch was going to be the death of me after all. A hiss escaped me as a burn shot through the mark she’d saddled me with years ago. A parting gift for my unfortunate misstep.
I checked the spot on the back of my hand; just a small star right in the center. What the fuck? Was the thing growing? Instead of a single star, there was now a small cluster. Dread curled in my gut. What did this mean? How could I stop it? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
A loud crash from behind me pulled me out of my spiral of doom. Two wolf shifters and a burly lumberjack were locked in a scuffle. I had to get the hell out of here before this turned into a full-on bar brawl.
I pulled my collar up higher as I left the Tipsy Moose behind. I hadn’t even been able to enjoy my beer before those fucking Mercer twins started a fight. They had thirty other days to act like a bunch of assholes, and they chose the one night a month where I came into town for my supply run. It was my only chance to stop in for a taste of semi-normal existence, and it had been ruined by dick-swinging shifters.
Fucking typical.
The wind kicked up, sending the curly hair of my fake beard fluttering across the hollow of my throat and tickling me without mercy. Maybe one day I wouldn’t have to hide my identity, but as of right now, I was still the supernatural world’s most wanted hacker. That meant a life of anonymous sex, zero meaningful relationships, and way too much wig adhesive. It was all fake names, deep cover, and high security for me. Unless I wanted to get caught and become the captive of that vengeful witch.
Hard pass. She’d already done enough damage.
I scratched at my chin with an annoyed grunt, my irritation rising when I felt the adhesive give way. Great. My goatee probably looked drunker than I did—than I wassupposedto be.
The whole thing was bullshit, my night wrecked, and now I didn’t even have a good buzz to make any of the effort worth it. I should have just waited until I got home. Then I could have cracked open one of the bottles of Jack I’d bought and found oblivion in the best way I knew. Alone.
I hated the need for these disguises, but it was the only way to maintain any sort of social life when, as far as the people of Aurora Springs knew, Asher Henry didn’t exist. And I needed to keep it that way if I wanted to stay alive. In a town of one hundred and seventy-three people, that was a special sort of hell.
Thus I became Joe Baker, resident hermit and curmudgeonly fisherman. No one bothered me. No one cared if I ever showed my face.
Well, almost no one.
Starting up my old beater of a truck, I waited for the heat to blast and fill the cab. Even in the spring, it was cold here. But going into hiding meant isolation in a small, nowhere town. What better place than the near wilds of Alaska?
I drove the forty minutes up the winding path to my mountain fortress, mostly muttering to myself and ignoring the sorry excuse for music playing on the radio. It was really just a bunch of static with a random guitar strum here and there, but what could you expect from a town with one fucking station?
If the night had gone according to plan, I would have slept it off at Joe Baker’s houseboat or any of the other properties I owned under various names. But since tonight had shit the bed before it even started, all I wanted was to go home. That meant my log cabin in the woods. The one filled with technology so advanced not even the military had access to most of it, and no one in Aurora Springs, let alone anywhere else, would find it on any kind of map. Google Earth could fuck right off.
As I pulled past the camouflaged gate hiding my property from the prying eyes of wayward hikers, I frowned. The beams of my headlights flashed across strange tracks in the muddy earth of the dirt road.
“What the fuck?”
