Page 38 of Claimed

There’s so much power within him. Not just his physical strength, either. He has this larger-than-life light about him. This is true alpha confidence, I think - a combination of inner and outer strength. Wisdom. Awareness. I can’t decode all my feelings I’m feeling, but they feel massive. So big I’m afraid I can’t contain them all.

The connection between our gazes is terrifying. And beautiful. If I’d known this was really a possibility for me, I’d have spent my life searching for it. This is such a surprise. Such a beautiful, overwhelming surprise.

He expands within me, and the tremors begin, pulsing inside in a way that has my body bucking as I hold on tight.

Greyson starts working on my mate mark with his tongue again, making me whimper. I can’t get over how sensitive the spot is. I grip his muscled back and enjoy the strength of him, the heat of his body, the safety I feel right now.

Burying my face into his throat, I feel the sudden urge to mark him, too. To leave my own imprint on him. I push the thought away, unsure how he would react to my teeth.

“You feel so fucking good, Stacy,” he rumbles against my throat, before he attacks my mouth with his again, strong lips coaxing mine open, then slipping his tongue in just enough to touch mine. I follow his actions by copying them and it seems to drive him wild. His hands are in my hair as the vibrations continue to thrum against very sensitive places inside me.

Oh, my stars. My heart races. My body writhes. My very soul croons a song about the glory of Greyson Blackwood’s knot.

He’s grunting while he rocks me into the couch with his pelvis, then he lets out a load rumbling roar before he stills on top of me.

I’m staring at the ceiling, tears pricking my eyes as the sensations ebb while my hands feel the goosebumps on his back.

His cock slips out of me, but instead of moving away like most men do at this point, his mouth presses kisses to my throat again. He begins to purr as he flips us so that I’m on top of him. I snuggle in.

His hand caresses my behind as he presses his lips to my forehead, and he’s catching his breath. He’s feeling things, too. Like I am.

“I can’t believe I thought sex was something to just…endure. When you have it with your fated mate, it’s so different,” I blurt, nuzzling into his warmth, feeling happy at the feel of his strong arms around me. “You don't need lubrication and you’re not even rushing to get away from me now that it’s over. Cuddling. Who knew I would like cuddling with an alpha?” I giggle. But it dies fast because something’s wrong. His body is stiff now. I look at his face. His eyes are angry. His jaw muscles are bulging as he grits his teeth. His nostrils are flared.

I feel the change in him on the inside, too.

Uh oh.

He speaks in a low, angry tone, not unlike the tone he used when he caught me after I fired that gun. “I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you, babe, so I’ll just come out with it and we’ll sort it out here and now. I do not ever, fucking ever, want to hear about you, my mate, having sex with anybody. Ever. Don’t give a fuck that it was before we met, don’t give a shit that I’m better at it. The notion of anybody’s hands on you makes me feel the need to inflict violence. It’s just you and me here, so I don’t wanna be inflicting violence. I wanna be here, with you, getting to know you intimately. Get me?”

I nod a little, panic making my pulse race. I don’t like the sight of him angry. I really don’t like that I’ve been the one to make him this way with what I now realize were careless words. I’m not someone who talks a lot around men. I never want to say the wrong thing and face their ire. But I’ve just said the wrongest thing I could say, probably. A chill rushes through me, remorse flooding my system.

He growls with obvious frustration, and I resist the urge to flee, instead showing him my throat.

“Fuck,” he clips loudly, and this makes me change my mind and scamper off his lap, ready to run, to get away from the violence that’s coming.

He catches me and lifts me up into his arms and sits on the couch, me in a ball on his lap.

I’m breathless, gasping, and my pulse is racing. I don’t know what to do. He’s not hurting me, but his eyes are so, so angry. I don’t know whether to squirm to get away or stay perfectly still. I just don’t know what to do.

“No, Stacy,” he states, grabbing the back of my head and pulling it under his chin. He begins purring again. Loud. I’m so confused.

A lengthy silence stretches between us, and I know he’s trying to calm himself. I can feel the tension – feel something in my chest, where he’s trying to settle the pace his blood flows through his veins, the speed of his heartbeat, his breathing. His purring is calming my body, but my mind is another story right now.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he finally says, stroking my hair, rocking me, and then purring some more. After a minute of it, he says, “Sorry, babe.”

We’re like this for a long moment together. Him purring, comforting me despite the fact that I was the one who did wrong.

“I… I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Greyson,” I manage. “I’m v-very sorry.”

He sighs. “I don’t like the idea of you with someone else. You’re mine, Blossom.”

“I was thinking out loud. I won’t do it again.”

He sighs again. “I don’t want you to be afraid to say things to me, okay? You have a past. A past I know nothing about. I just… I really fuckin’ hate the idea of anyone else touching you. It sets off anger, possessiveness. Alphas get possessive about their mates. Heard it all my life, saw it, too. But never felt it until now. This is all new to me, too.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I was just… astounded with how good you are at…that. I wasn’t thinking, just… I’m sorry I upset you when I was trying to compliment you.”

“You don’t have to keep saying sorry.I’msorry, wife. I don’t need you to show me your neck. Even if you do something wrong, youdon’t have to do that with me. Don’t be afraid of your husband. Okay?”

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