Page 32 of Little Bunny

Matias growled. Low, quiet, dangerous. But the anger wasn’t directed at Elijah.

He cupped the male’s face, thumbs stroking over soft skin. “I will kill him,” he promised and meant every word.

Elijah let out a sharp breath. “Not necessary.”

Matias exhaled slowly, forcing the rage to the back of his mind. Right now wasn’t about Trent. It was about this—about them.

Matias pressed kisses gently to Elijah’s cheeks, to his forehead, before trailing down to his lips, sealing every vow with tenderness. “You don’t have to believe it yet, conejito.” Matias murmured against his lips. “Just feel it.” A soft nip. “Let me show you.”

Elijah’s lashes fluttered, his fingers digging into Matias’s shoulders. “Okay,” he whispered, swallowing roughly, as if he’d worked up the courage to say that single word.

Relief flooded Matias’s chest, powerful and all-consuming.

That was all he needed.

His lips reclaimed Elijah’s with newfound intensity, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements between his thighs. A whimper spilled into Matias’s mouth as Elijah arched, hips rolling against his fingers, seeking more.

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “That’s my good bunny,” he praised, sliding a second finger inside, stretching him wider, dragging another needy sound from his mate.

He wasn’t going to stop now. He wasn’t going to stop until Elijah was completely his.

Chapter Nine

Matias’s words lingered, curling around Elijah’s ribs, settling deep in his chest. A mate isn’t a leash. It’s not a trap. It’s worship.

The weight of that promise sent heat straight to his core, something deeper than lust twisting inside of him. He wanted to believe it. Needed to believe it.

Matias wasn’t like Trent. That much, Elijah already knew. And Matias had meant every word.

The kiss turned slow, intoxicating, each drag of Matias’s lips over his own unraveling something inside him. A deep warmth, an ache that went far beyond physical need.

Elijah wanted to give.

Not just because Matias had already wrecked him in the kitchen. Not just because he was still lightheaded from the orgasm that had left him breathless.

But because Matias had chosen him.

Shifting beneath him, Elijah pushed gently at Matias’s shoulder, urging him onto his back. He hesitated, half expecting resistance, some reminder of who was in charge. But Matias allowed it, resting against the pillows, watching him with something dark and knowing in those eyes.

That intensity nearly knocked the breath out of Elijah.

A shaky exhale, then he trailed a hand down Matias’s chest, savoring the heat beneath his fingertips. Every ridge of muscle, every taut inch of skin. His own pulse pounded in his ears as he moved lower, pressing a kiss to the center of Matias’s chest, lips brushing over the steady, grounding beat of his heart.

A growl rumbled from above him. Soft. Encouraging.

Fingers curled in his hair as he kept going, mouth trailing lower, tongue flicking over one of Matias’s nipples just to hear the sharp inhale, the way Matias’s body tensed beneath him.

The wolf liked that.

Elijah smirked, dragging his nails down Matias’s ribs as he kissed his way over the hard planes of his stomach. The sharp hiss he got in response sent heat rushing through him, emboldening him.

A slow glance upward. Matias’s gaze burned into him, dark and molten, his chest rising and falling in steady, controlled breaths.

So in control. Elijah wanted to break that control.

Settling between Matias’s legs, he kissed the line of muscle leading down to the waistband of his jeans, lips lingering just above the thick outline straining against the fabric. He pressed his nose against it, exhaling slow, feeling the heat of Matias’s cock through the denim.

Above him, the growl deepened, fingers tightening in his hair.

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