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The smirk on his face said he could scent my arousal and approved.
Two could play that game. I twisted in his grip so I was facing him, chest to chest. I reached out to his tented pants and squeezed, feeling up and down his length.
It was his turn to growl. “Feeling what’s yours, little queen?”
Damn, I loved when he called me that. Even now, when it could be a taunt, there was reverence in it. Love and desire that burned through every word. Of course, if I’d meant to tease him with my touch, I was still tormenting myself as well. Feeling how much he wanted me was a massive turn-on.
I lifted on my toes so I could press my lips to his ear. “Do you want your queen on her knees? Taking you, here in the hall?”
His cock jerked in my hand as he groaned. “Yes.”
I pulled back so I could sink down to the ground, eager to watch him come undone, but he stopped me.
“There’s one thing I want first. If you’re amenable.”
I angled my head in question.
“I want to claim you.”
I frowned, lifting my left hand, which held a simple golden band on it. “Been there, done that, got the wedding ring.”
He didn’t laugh. “I want to claim you as the wolves do.”
I blinked.
A claiming bite.
Something I’d given up on when my moon-matched mate had forsaken and killed me. No, something I’d given up on the moment I’d found out I’d been paired with him. Because I would have never let him do that to me.
Not every wolf got a bite. It was only for predestined pairs.
“Are you sure?”
“I want this more than nearly anything. I want to see my mark on your neck and know you chose it. I want other males to see it and know you’re off-limits.”
I was going to jest about him being awfully possessive, but then he added, “And I want to wear your bite, to feel it in my skin with every step, and know that you claim me as fiercely as I do you.”
My heart beat faster, pounding so loudly I could barely think.
The wedding… marriage… it had made me happier than I’d ever been. It hadn’t been something I’d expected, being raised as a shifter. Even though I knew the importance, it didn’t hit me in the chest the way the thought of wearing Cole’s bite did. Of getting to wake up every morning and see my mark on him.
If I’d thought I’d wanted him before, now the thought drove me wild.
“Yes. I want that. Badly.”
“Are you sure?” he pressed. “If you don’t want it, we don’t have to. I meant every word of my vows. A bite doesn’t change that.”
“I want it for all the reasons you said. And I want it because you already own my soul, Cole. The ring, the dress, they’re nice, but they can go. There’s nothing more permanent than what we have. It transcends lifetimes and the barriers of life and death. Nothing would make me prouder than to wear that bond on my skin.”
Something lit in Cole’s expression at my words. Then he kissed me with a passion that could’ve burned the entire world down. He devoured my lips in a bruising kiss. I yielded, letting him take and take, showing him I meant every word. His fingers threaded through my hair, pulling it back. And when I was breathless and glassy-eyed, he broke the kiss and bit my neck.
I gasped at the contact.
I’d expected pain. I hadn’t feared it, but being bit hurt.
But that wasn’t what I felt. Heat exploded in me, spiraling straight down to my sex. When he broke away, I was even more breathless than I’d been before, and more eager than ever to feel him inside. Rules of hospitality be damned to the pits.
The look on his face was pure masculine satisfaction. He wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, his amber eyes never leaving me. I pressed a hand to my neck, feeling the skin knit and begin to heal under my palm. The scar would remain, though. Claiming bites stayed, for whatever magical reason, despite shifter’s healing abilities.
