Page 25 of Broken Wolf Heart
I press my hand to his cheek, wanting only to assuage the guilt and torment in his eyes.
“I will always find my way back to you,” he says.
Then he kisses me. And everything else fades away.
It starts soft. Gentle. Lips barely brushing, just enough to stir the edges of something waiting—something electric that buzzes beneath my skin.
But then he deepens it.
And whatever thing he’s awakened between us comes fully alive.
The kiss turns greedy, open-mouthed, and consuming. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming, coaxing, devouring. I moan, and he swallows it like it’s his favorite sound.
My ears roar with the sensations. My skin feels like a livewire. And in my mind or my heart—I don’t know which—I can sense him wanting me.
The mate bond.
What felt like a vague thought before suddenly flares to life between us. I feel the essence of him everywhere—insideme, like a second heartbeat. Like he’s always been there, waiting for me to notice.
“I feel you,” I gasp between kisses. “In a way I couldn’t before. Like… like Iamyou.”
He groans, pressing his forehead to mine. “That’s the bond. It’s real now. Fully awake.”
“Is that what this is?” I whisper. “This heat? This ache?”
“Yes. And it’ll only grow stronger when I bite you.” He pauses. “But that doesn’t have to be now. We can wait. Weshouldwait.”
I roll my hips against him slowly and feel the sharp intake of his breath as his erection presses against my thigh. “What if I don’t want to wait?”
“Lexi…”
I reach between us and wrap my fingers around him, feeling the shudder that ripples through his entire body. “I want to belong to you in every way I can. Now. Here. Tonight.”
He exhales a needy sound, and then he’s kissing me again. His hands slide down my body, trailing reverent paths. Over my ribs. My hips. My thighs. His fingers part my folds, pushing inside me, and I gasp.
“I can feel how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, stroking me slowly.
But it’s not enough.
My wolf wants him—all of him. She wants to belong to him. At last, we agree on something.
“Grey,” I breathe. “Please.”
He slides his fingers out of me and lifts me up and over his erection. Slowly, he lowers me onto him, and I feel him sliding into me. Deep. Like we’re falling into each other inch by delicious inch.
I gasp, clutching at his shoulders, and he stills.
“Too much?”
“No,” I whisper. “It’s perfect.”
He moves inside me, his dark eyes locked on mine like he’s memorizing the shape of my soul. Every thrust is unhurried, like we have all the time in the world. Like this moment is meant to stretch forever.
The sounds around us blur—the hum of insects, the rustle of leaves, the gurgle of the stream. All I know is his breath against my skin. His hands gripping my waist. His lips brushing my jaw, my neck, my shoulder.
The bond pulses with every movement we make. Every moan. Every whispered promise. My wolf stirs, snarling her approval in my mind.
Suddenly, the need building inside me is not a soft, slow thing. Soon, I’m rocking harder against him, whispering, pleading for him to go faster. His grip on my hips tightens. I hiss in pleasure at the roughness.
