Page 75 of Cold Moon

He rolled us back over, tossing my clothes to the floor, one piece at a time, until I was completely naked. He was still wearing his jeans, and it was... well, it was a lot. I shivered at being so exposed, while he was still dressed, and ducked my head a little when he stared. “Dante. You have to—”

Like the words had woken him from a trance, he went into a frenzy of motion, stripping off his own clothes and tossing one piece after another onto the floor to join mine.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning down to lay a line of kisses along my collarbone. “I was so worried. I was afraid we wouldn’t find you, or we’d be too late, or—”

“There’s no need to worry about it anymore. You did find me, and you were right on time.” I grabbed his chin and held it in place as I leaned in for a kiss. “You were perfect. My perfect mate.”

He snatched the bottle of lube, still sitting on the nightstand, and coated his fingers in it, and went right to working me open. I had a moment to pause and worry, because lubrication was an even bigger struggle for me outside of heat, but he didn’t even notice. Just looked over every part of me like a starving man looked at a pineapple pizza. Whether it was his favorite or not, he needed it.

But then, when he looked back up into my eyes, gold flecks dancing in his deep brown gaze, I really got it. Iwashis favorite. He was that guy who kept trying to convince everyone that pineapple pizza was not only excellent, but maybe the very best kind of pizza.

Dante didn’t just love me, like my mother loved me and my pack loved me, because it was a requirement. Dante loved me because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed my company, and liked my body, and... Dante loved me.

“That’s plenty,” I whispered. “Want you right this second.”

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t.”

And Dante trusted me, because with that promise, he reached down to spread the rest of the lube from his fingers onto his cock. As he lifted my hips from where I’d been sitting on his thighs, lining himself up, he looked back up to meet my eye again.

“You’re sure? You’ll be stuck with me forever.” He said forever like he meant heaven. Like he was looking at a work of art, and he couldn’t imagine anything better.

I grinned back. “Forever is exactly long enough.” I gasped as his cock breached me, but as soon as I could focus again, I ran a hand up to his shoulder, right where it met his neck, then met his eye again.

The brown was almost gone from his eyes, blown so wide that just a tiny ring of color showed around his pupils. He nodded, and bared his neck even more. It was almost like the way one bared their neck in submission to their alpha, and suddenly, the mate bond made a lot more sense in my mind.

That was what it was. He was submitting to me. And I would submit to him. It was an offer and a promise, and I was so ready for it. Never before in almost twenty years of life had anyone submitted to me. Bared their neck for my bite. Accepted me, so perfectly and willingly.

My wolf teeth slid out of their own accord, looking at that stretch of skin, and I leaned forward, biting down instinctively.

Dante moaned as my teeth slid into his neck, and it wasn’t pain. Or it wasn’t only in pain. He thrust hard, holding me still against him and fucking into me as I marked him. Claimed him as mine, forever.

The marks barely even bled, were already starting to heal as I pulled my teeth free. Healing into a shiny pink ring, looking perfect. Looking like it belonged there.

When I let my head fall back against the pillow, panting hard, he took my face in his hands and met my eye again. “Yours.”

“Mine,” I agreed. Then I turned my head, baring my neck just a few more inches, and he moaned again. He thrust harder, shaking the whole bed, and I wondered if I’d have bruises on my ass for a few hours from the pounding. I could barely catch my breath, the movement and sensation blending together and lifting me higher and higher until—

Sharp pinpricks of sensation lit me up from the inside. His teeth on my neck. In it. Holding me, claiming me as his own.

The first person who had learned exactly who I was, and what he was getting into by being with me—a lifetime of dealing with my Condition—and then he chose me anyway.

And that was all it took. My vision whited out, body going rigid and electricity coursing through me as I came under his body. His teeth.

My mate. My partner and savior and lover. My Dante.

43

Dante

Iwas a Grove.

The second Greta Hagen from the B-and-B saw the edge of Skye’s mark beneath my collar—or rather, the second she’d run to spread the news through the town gossip mill—something had changed in the pack’s view of me. I belonged to Skye, so I belonged to them. And while I wasn’t at ease with every person in the pack yet, I trusted Skye.

That was easy. We were getting married, and I was going to take that man’s name. No more Dante Reid, no more snarling feral alpha monster stalking my nightmares, the beast of my father and the thing I feared I’d become.

Now that I had Skye, had pack, I knew better. Alphas didn’t lose control because it was inevitable, but because those bonds with each other that we all needed to feel whole went neglected.

---