Page 71 of Accidentally Wedded To A Werewolf

Oliver’s hips stilled. He pulled back, fixing those dark eyes on her. “You have to block it out. Don’t go too deep, remember?”

“I’m blocking,” Luna said. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on closing herself off. It took more effort every time. But Oliver faded obediently from her mind, the warm glow of the bond replacing it.

“There we go,” Luna said. She bumped their noses together, giving him a shaky smile. “Hey. It’s not like I can see anything shocking, right? I already know all your dark secrets.”

He frowned.

Luna bit his chin. “Hey, none of that. Tell me what I smell like.”

His eyes went half-lidded. “Mine.”

“Yeah,” Luna said, squirming. She could feel his knot going down, his cock hardening up inside the condom. “That’s right, big boy. All yours. Oh,shit!”

His knot popped out of her, then back in. She thrashed against the pillows. It was one of her favorite parts: the knot not completely gone but small enough to fuck her properly.

“Yours,” Luna gasped, the noise verging on a sob. “Oh my god, Oliver—fuck—make me yours!”

Oliver growled into her neck, hips snapping harder. The knot popped in and out, cock finally hard enough to press that spot inside of her that made her cry out.

Luna clung to him, whimpering.It was getting harder to tell what was her and what was him, the bond twisting them together as their pleasure mounted. Luna was getting fucked, and then suddenly, she was doing the fucking; her knot was going down, and the bedframe creaked under her hand as she carved new splinters in it with her claws.

It was impossible to block each other fully when they were twisted together so closely. Luna let it wash over her, only distantly aware of tears spilling down her cheeks as he emptied himself inside of her for the second time. Oliver licked her cheeks clean, and Luna tasted salt.

She lay there, quaking, his cock softening once more inside of her. They were both putting their walls back up, but Luna still caught it before they slammed the door shut on their bond: longing. Oliver wanted to keep her. For one moment, lost in their combined pleasure, Oliver had wanted her to stay with him in Claw Haven.

Luna swallowed over her thick throat as he pulled out. People thought all sorts of things during sex. It didn’t make it true once it was over. And if itwastrue, that was… not ideal. She wasn’t staying. Shecouldn’tstay. She had a fiancé waiting for her. She had alife, filled with maids and spas and places to buy coffee if you got a craving at 10 p.m.

Oliver touched her cheek, catching a stray tear. “You okay?”

“Yeah!” Luna pulled up a hasty smile, wiping her face. “That was intense.”

He touched her cheek again, and for a moment,Luna thought she must’ve missed a tear. But his thumb stayed there, resting against the corner of her eye so tenderly that Luna almost welled up again. For a second, she let herself entertain the fantasy. Staying here in Claw Haven and having breakfast at a crowded table every morning. Nodding at everyone in the street and helping stores to set up marketing campaigns. Going to sleep every night wrapped in Oliver’s arms, warm and safe andseen…

Oliver’s stomach growled. The look on his face made Luna burst out laughing, only a little watery.

“Luckily, we have soup,” she giggled. She pushed at his shoulder. “Come on, the microwave awaits.”

They brought their warm bowls back to bed. Oliver scarfed it down and went back for seconds before Luna was even halfway through.

He was strange when he got back. Stiff and awkward, keeping a distance between them like he had in her first few weeks at the inn.

“Let’s not do that again,” he said finally.

Luna froze, spoon halfway to her mouth. “What? But we don’t have the flower yet.”

“No, not…” He gestured toward the tangled sheets they were sitting on, which would have to go in the wash for the third time this week. “Theminecrap.”

Luna snorted, her panic dying down. She wasn’t ready for their lasttime yet.

“It’s sex,” she said. “Stuff you say during sex doesn’t mean anything.”

He shrugged, digging into his second bowl of soup. “Still. Feels inappropriate.”

Luna arched her brows at him. Then at the huge, borrowed shirt she was wearing on her sweaty body, and then the claw marks in the bedframe.

He aimed an equally pointed look at her engagement ring.

“Oh, whatever.” Luna twisted the ring around her finger, feeling it pinch. “Iamkind of yours. Until we get that flower, anyway.”

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