Page 31 of Mysterious Mate

Willow knew this was a game of power, not just a game about sex. The pool water dripped from her body, each droplet a testament to her rebellion. She felt powerful, knowing he wanted her and that he was fighting his desire. His internal struggle was almost palpable, and it thrilled her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Yes, it was wrong of her, but when you’ve been without power for as long as she had and still had little to none to speak of, you take what you can get.

She wanted Cage’s control to snap, wanted him to give in to what they both wanted and needed. According to Jones—those homebrews weren’t just delicious, they were intoxicating—Cage kept to himself but hadn’t indulged with a woman in years. Willow’s gaze stayed locked on him, urging him silently, daring him to cross the boundary he had set. For all he knew, her damn divorce had been finalized. But when Cage looked away, a knot of worry tightened in her gut. What if he never gave in? He had made a promise to someone and meant to keep it. At least he was loyal to Colby Reynolds, but was Colby Reynolds going to give him a blowjob that would rock his world? She doubted it. Oh well, too bad; it was Cage’s loss.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Willow pulled herself out of the pool, water streaming down her naked form. She walked back to the house, her wet feet leaving a trail on the stone pathway, into the house, up the stairs, and down the hall to her room. Once inside, she closed the door, leaning back and locking it as she willed herself not to cry. If Cage wanted to join her in her bed, he was going to have to break the damn door down.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, the weight of the night pressing down on her. She had played her hand, and now all she could do was wait and see if Cage would ever cross the line.

CAGE

Cage watched her go and checked in with security to make sure she’d gone to her room. He drained the beer and decided he needed something strong—something much stronger. He looked at her clothing and tossed it over on the lounge. She could bloody well go looking for her own jewelry. And if he never saw that wedding ring again, it would be too soon.

Returning to the dining room, he poured himself a whiskey and then took the glass and the bottle to the table. For the next few hours, Cage sat and drank. It wasn’t an indulgence he usually allowed himself, but it had been a long day, and Willow’s little striptease hadn’t helped.

Much later, when the house was silent, he heard her footfalls as she came down the stairs and headed towards the dining room. What now? Willow entered the room, her thin, silk-knit robe tied only at her waist. Did she really think that thing did anything to disguise her delicious curves?

She walked to the bar, not realizing he was in the room. He’d need to teach her to never enter a room without being sure she knew if there was anyone there, not to mention noting any possible escape routes.

Cage hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights so the room was dim except for the moonlight that filtered through the French doors. Willow leaned down, her robe emphasizing her luscious backside. She pulled out a bottle of the homebrew, opened it and then brought it to her mouth. As she tilted it up to take a long drink, she turned and noticed him for the first time since she’d entered the room.

Willow froze, the bottle still tilted up to her mouth, but no longer swallowing. She said nothing. Cage stood. He’d been at war with himself since he met her that night on the landing strip. He was tired, fed up, and frustrated. He wanted her; she wanted him; and more importantly, she was his fucking mate. She belonged to him.

His watch buzzed. A message from one of his team

“I don’t understand, but Colby wanted me to let you know all systems are go, and you have a green light.”

He texted back.

“Message received.”

Walking over to Willow, he picked her up, carried her to the table, and set her on it. Parting her legs, he pushed her robe out of the way to puddle on either side of her thighs. Kneeling before her, he breathed in deeply and felt his iron control snap like a twig.

CHAPTER 16

CAGE

“Mine,” he growled possessively, inhaling the sweet aroma of her arousal before nuzzling her sex.

“Cage… Cage, I’m not sure about this.”

“Don’t worry. I am.”

Without a word he lifted each of her legs over his shoulders and pulled her to the edge of the dining room table. Her fists gripped the edges as her legs parted even wider for him, exposing her swollen flesh. He smiled. His beautiful human mate was ripe and ready for him. Never again would she pleasure herself unless it was to amuse him. He stared at her pussy, enjoying how wet she was.

Cage meant to show her just how talented his tongue was before he shoved himself deep and took what she’d been offering from almost the moment they met. He meant to make a meal of her honey. He was a bear after all, right? Spreading her legs just a little wider, he made a place for himself, his gaze never leaving her glistening core. His breath tickled her skin, making her quiver. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply, committing her distinctive scent to memory.

Willow arched her back, her anticipation palpable. Then, without warning, his tongue darted out, sliding between her folds. She cried out in surprise and pleasure, her body bucking against his mouth.

His tongue was relentless, teasing and probing, finding every sensitive spot. Willow gripped the edge of the table more tightly, her nails digging into the wood as she tried to hold on to her sanity. It wasn’t even the time of the rut, but Cage knew she was responding in a way only the most sensual and highly desirable she-bears did. Her body was already burning out of control, and she would know only he could quench that fire. Every thrust of his tongue was an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

Cage's fingers joined his tongue, rubbing her clit in time with the tongue spearing her pussy and creating a symphony of sensation. Willow’s breath hitched, her eyes filling with tears as she realized she hadn’t been the only one who’d wanted it. He needed her in the same way the wildflowers need the rain.

He could feel her nearing the edge, striving to find that pinnacle of desire. Just before she could fly free, he stopped. She was owed a little payback for all her teasing. Her eyes flew open, confusion and need clouding her vision. Cage stood up, smirking at the expression on her face.

“Not as much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?”

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

There was a knock on the door as Jones entered. “Cage?”

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