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“Yes,” he rasps.
“It’s not going to be a question.” I scrape his throat until his Adam’s apple spasms under my claws. “It’s going to be a command.”
Jin snatches my fingers for a kiss of glacier-melting heat. “You think I’ll obey?”
“You will.”
“Why?”
Pushing past my doubts, I hold Jin’s all-consuming gaze. “Because it’s me.”
Jin’s stroking purr seeps through my skin—a dark, velvet blanket I never want to leave. “You finally understand.”
Yeah.
I finally do.
I’ve twisted myself in more knots than Bishop’s ties trying to be the Marisol that could survive. While Bish protects my lies and Jin makes me forget the years without the pack, Reese needs me in his cheering section as much as I crave him in mine.
Dutch just wants to scoop my papaya and take turns getting railed.
And honestly?
I want to try that too.
Meadows Pack doesn’t care if I’m a boy, a girl, or a biohazard.
They don’t ask me to be anything or anyone I’m not.
After I smoke the island of every mafia bastard who wants to steal what’s mine, we’re going to have a pack meeting and figure out how to stomp the creepy-crawly throat bugs keeping us apart.
I want to believe that our bond goes beyond mates and cheap perfume.
I have to believe that I can heal—not for them, but for myself.
For us.
I promised I’d follow orders.
And I do—for, like, ten seconds—on my way to my post. Then my mate jogs past in body armor.
Only thing I can follow is that ass.
The idea of licking Solly—of fucking tasting her—has me so lit, my dick hasn’t softened in days. Knot, balls, even my fucking tonsils. They ache, ready to take her any way she wants.
Any place. Any position.
From now until forever, even after death. Because if ghosts can fuck, I’ll astral project and beg Solly to peg me on the spiritual plane.
Mission adrenaline keeps me semi-focused, but even when I’m not rolling my tongue, shadow-munching my mate’s funnel-cake cunt, all I think about is her.
The real plan is that we secretly set traps to funnel the baddies away from Solly. Another banger from the Meadows brain team.
But the instincts fucking dogsled-mushing me to trail and protect my mate don’t give a wagging shit about the dots on Bishop’s map.
I have to see her myself.
Make sure she doesn’t evaporate.
