Page 66 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

It sends a shiver down my spine. “Because I can’t stay away.” The honesty in my voice, now thick with need, shocks even me. But it’s true. And I’m tired of pretending like it’s not. Nothing Kieran will everdo will end this need I have for him. This ache is my life because he’s not filling that void. I know my wolf has forgiven him. She has gotten past the trauma of what we went through. He’s here now. That’s all that matters. He wants us.

I spin to face him then, anger and something else tightening in my chest.

I shake my head. “This isn’t fair.”

Kieran lifts a hand, his fingers skimming over my jaw before I can stop him. His touch is hesitant, testing, as if waiting for me to pull away. I should.

I don’t.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, his thumb brushing against my pulse, and then he wraps a hand around it, strong, firm, tilting my head up. I whimper with need, and I press my body into him, feeling all his hardness, all his heat, wanting to sink into it, feeling the gaping holes in my throat and between my legs he should be filling.

“Nothing about this has ever been fair.” His voice vibrates through me and I all but cum at the sound of his voice.

I hate that he’s right.

My breath stutters when he tilts his head closer, his scent washing over me—cedar and smoke and something distinctly him. His wolf.

The moment stretches between us, thick with unsaid things. Then, he tilts my face to his, and his lips brush against mine, soft and uncertain. Testing.

“I need you, Hazel,” he says, his voice strained with need he too has been keeping under control. The tightness in his voice makes me bite my lip. There’s nothing like the feeling of knowing you affect someone else just the way they affect you. A Mate. There’s nothing like having a Mate. And my body sings at the thought.

The bond flares, hot and consuming.

I break first.

My fingers fist in his shirt as I crush my mouth against his, all the anger and frustration and lust and love and need and pain bleeding into the kiss. His hand tightens in my hair, his body pressing against mine, solid and warm and everything I’ve been trying to resist.

I hate him.

I want him.

The contradiction is maddening.

I must have him.

My Mate.

I feel my wolf straining against the seal, needing to feel her Mate, seeking to bond with him.

Kieran growls low in his throat, his grip tightening as he lifts me effortlessly, pressing my back against the cool stone of the balcony’s pillar. His lips trail down my neck, nipping, tasting, teasing. My wolf keens, her instincts demanding more.

I need to feel him fill me up. But he takes his time taking my dress off, exploring every bit of flesh that he exposes with every button he undoes. His mouth captures my nipples, and I press his face into my chest, holding on to him, because all my awareness has migrated to each nipple he takes in his mouth.

“Fuck Kieran. The things you do to me,” I moan, throwing my head back, my body already surrendering to him. He kisses my belly and then further down, until he kneels before me.

The rush of seeing him on his knees, eager to please me, of knowing that he can’t help but be drawn to me, that I am the only one he can be this way for, has me feeling powerful. I grab a handful of his hair and press his face into my wetness as I grind against him.

His tongue and lips are doing a dirty number on me, and I am just a ball of quivering pleasure. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t come up for air and in a matter of seconds, I am squirting all over his face, moaning his face as I cum in an eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-my-head kind of way.

But he’s not done. He pulls back with a transfixed look in his eyes, like nothing can break his focus from my pussy. It makes me hotter and wetter, even though my body is still quivering from the last orgasm.

“Hazel. My baby girl. My tough little bean,” he coos as he watches my pussy clench and unclench with need.

I whimper and whine as he toys with my folds, using my oozing juices as lube as he teases my clit. The sensation goes all the way to my scalp, and I am a moaning mess again. I need him to fill me. The need only intensifies the more he plays with me. I want him to slide a fingerinside me, or his tongue. Or his veiny, throbbing cock. Fuck, I need him.

It doesn’t take long for me to squeal out with another orgasm.

I have to stop him. He carries me over to the table, and I position myself so that my face is right at his crotch.

---