Page 17 of Wrong Number, Right Cougar

“Run.”

Thorn chuckled and reached for my hand, and we jogged through the woods like that. If anyone saw us they’d have assumed we were drunk. And maybe we were, but it wasn’t on alcohol.

“This is me.” I pulled him up the steps. “Tour later?”

“Much.” Thorn slammed his lips to mine.

As delicious as his scent was, his taste was a thousand times more so. This was no slow leisurely kiss; it was hot, needy, raw, and each movement of his lips had me wanting more.

We were still in the doorway, and as much as I hated it, we had to stop long enough to get inside. It was mosquito season, and while they tended to ignore me, my mate was human. I’d feel guilty if he ended up with bites all over his ass—unless they were mine. And that was a real possibility given that my cougar was begging me to claim him already. I couldn’t, though, or at least I wouldn’t, not until he knew exactly what he was getting into and he gave me the go-ahead.

I scooped him up and carried him straight to the bedroom where I set him down, ready to unwrap him like the gift he was. I reached for his shirt, but his lips found mine, his body pressed against me, and I got lost in it, until we broke apart to catch our breath.

His hands reached for my jeans, and I drew back just enough to meet his gaze. “Are you sure?”

I’d never forgive myself if there was even a moment’s regret.

His hands tightened on my shoulders, his breath warm against my neck. “Wilder,” he said, his voice rough with impatience and something more. He spoke my name like a vow, like a plea. “I’m sure. Don’t make me wait.”

But I did. I’d been dreaming of this since my beast first scented him. I wanted to savor it.

My lips found his again, coaxing, testing, my fingers weaving through his hair as I pulled him closer. He pressed into me, searching, his hips moving with a need that took the air from my lungs and had my cock harder than I thought possible. The scent of him filled the cabin, intoxicating and heady, turning every careful breath into a glimpse of ecstacy.

With a growl, I lifted him, and he wrapped himself around me, clinging with a desperation that fed my beast’s hunger. “I need you,” he whispered, hot against my mouth.

I let his need crash over me. In a single movement, I set him down, and the mattress creaked beneath us. It was going to be doing a lot more of that before the night was over. Thorn struggled with the buttons of his jacket, breathless, nearly frantic. I caught his wrists and pinned them, savoring the heat in his eyes.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured.

His lips parted in protest, but he shivered as I drew the jacket open and pulled off his shirt. Inch by inch I exposed his skin to the cool night air and kissed, licked, and nibbled my way up. Thorn arched into my lips, seeking more.

“Please,” he said, breaking the silence with a moan. Gods, he was going to kill me.

My self-control shattered. Slow and patient flew out the window. I needed him now, just as he needed me. I rid him of his jeans, and turned him onto his stomach, one hand on the small of his back, the other already tearing at my own clothes without leaving the warmth of his proximity to me.

He pushed up against me, wild with impatience, the scent of his need so thick I could taste it. I wanted to devour him, to claim him the way my beast wanted, to make him mine before he could change his mind or catch his breath. I wouldn’t claim him, but devour? I was there for it.

“Like this?” I asked, low and taunting as I spread him open, as I let him feel the tip of my cock, blunt and demanding. His response was a wordless, primal sound that only drove me harder. “First, we need to get you ready.”

“I’m so ready!” He arched up against me.

“You will be soon.” I explored his shoulders and back with my mouth as I gathered slick on my finger and began to work his entrance. I circled him teasingly before I gave him what he wanted, sliding one finger inside and giving him a preview of what my cock was going to be up to soon. One finger became two, became three, became pleading for my cock that could probably be heard all the way to the diner.

“I won’t make you wait anymore.” I was shocked I’d managed to hold out this long.

The first push into him was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It was like coming home, his body welcoming and greedy. I groaned with the effort of holding back, of not giving him everything at once. He deserved better than a greedy lover.

Thorn bucked under me, trying to take more, but I gripped his hips and held him in place, inching deeper, making him feel every movement. He was slick, so slick, with need.

“Give me it all,” he gasped, desperate now, shoving himself onto me. His head turned, cheek pressed to the mattress, eyes burning with insistence. “Fill me, Wilder. Fuck me. Give me your knot.”

The sensations were too much and yet not enough, and I couldn’t wait, wouldn’t wait. My resolve snapped, and I thrust into him, burying myself to the hilt, letting him take me, letting him feel how thoroughly he was mine.

I pulled back and drove in harder, finally giving him what he’d been begging for. He cried out my name, asking me for more. And more I’d give him, but first… first I needed to see his face.

I helped him roll over, wanting to watch his eyes as he came. It took a few seconds to get situated, but once we were, I slid back inside him. As perfect as it had been with him facing the mattress, looking into his eyes as I rammed into him was an entirely different level of perfection. He moved with me, needy and eager, as I pounded into him. He was beautiful like this.

“Mine.” I slammed into him, again and again.

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