Page 18 of Claimed

“I…” she lets that hang, looking lost.

“Can’t help it. You don’t know me. You’ve had a rough day,” I finish for her.

She nods just a little before she moistens her lips with her tongue. This is a direct hit to my groin, which is already aching. Though I’ve stopped pacing, it feels like my wolf hasn’t.

I cup her face with my palm. “The fastest way to get it gone is to claim you. Make you mine officially. Mating you will help. You’ll settle.”

She looks terrified. But she forces a swallow down and nods, eyes dropping.

Looking like she’s resigned herself to something distasteful, she takes a step back, looks at my bed, then swallows hard again before shakily climbing up onto her knees and crawling a few paces toward the headboard. My eyes track her movement as she bends forward, balancing on elbows, palms, and knees.

I blink a couple times as I process. She’s gotten into this pose and is waiting for me to mount her. She waits, eyes scrunched shut and her fear scent, which has now notched even higher, is so potently present in this room my gut churns. I’m on the verge of puking from how ill it makes me that she feels likethisabout me claiming her.

The t-shirt she’s wearing has ridden up so I’ve got a good view of her sweet little ass. I’m not taking it in the way I would under normal circumstances because I’m thinking this must be a position she’s assumed in the past, waiting for someone to fuck her and get it over with. I push away my anger, my urge to question her, my innate desire to find and destroy whoever is responsible.

It takes three inhales and exhales before I can speak.

My voice comes out gruff.

“Stacy.”

She squeezes her eyes shut tighter and tilts her head, showing me her throat.

For fuck’s sake... submitting. This is wrong. All wrong.

She shuffles and moves her knees apart, as if I’ve said her name because I want more access.

“No, mate. Not like this,” I rasp, moving up to the head of the bed and sitting beside her so I can see her face. “Give me your hand, sweetheart.”

She slowly complies and as soon as I’ve got her hand in mine, I tug. “Come up here.”

She doesn’t move, so I pull her up into my arms and lay back, arranging her warm, trembling body on top of mine. I cradle her head to my chest and stroke her hair. My body temperature rises some more, giving her what she currently needs. Warmth. Comfort. I’m beyond ready to make this timid, pretty woman mine, but I know I’ll cause damage if I do it while she’s like this.

I put my lips to the ridge of her ear. “I won’t take you for our first time together like that. Not with you feeling this way.” I stroke her hair. “I promise you, you don’t need to be afraid of me, Stacy. You’re gonna be mine. My wife. My most treasured belonging. I don’t want to claim you the first time, the time that connects us to one another permanently, with you full of fear.”

She doesn’t get me. Doesn’t seem to getthis, though she should because she should’ve grown up learning all this would be.

“Eyes on mine, Blossom,” I request gently.

She looks up into my eyes. Hers are confused.

I hold her gaze for a minute. “Settle down, sweetheart.”

“What should I do instead?” she finally asks, awkwardly.

“You just want it over with,” I say.

She doesn’t deny it; it’s written all over her face and her entire body language speaks volumes. I’m very good at de-escalating situations, helping folks calm down, but that’s not working here and now. And I need it to work.

“Bracing for it to be over with isn’t how it is with your mate. Especially not since your fated mate is me. No, babe. When I take you, my goal is for it to be so good you’ll be ready to beg me for more instead of bracing like something bad’s about to happen.”

Her forehead crinkles, she looks away, and I know she doesn’t know what to make of me.

“Lie here for a while with me. We’ll take things slow,” I whisper and press my lips to her forehead briefly. “Where’s your pack?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” she says.

She’ll tell me. Maybe not yet, but she will tell me.

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