Page 59 of Sold Rejected Mate
Every time I’m with him, I can’t stop myself from thinking it—it’s never been like this with anyone else. My body has never been ready like this for someone else. And each time I think it, it brings me back to what I was thinking as a teenager. What I thought for sure must have been true.
I think it now, but I don’t say it. Because you can’t try to claim a fated mate twice. Most shifters don’t even dare to try and claim it once.
Even though I can’t say the thing I want to, my body still pulses with need, that place inside me already aching for Lachlan again.
And it’s like he can read my mind because as he kisses me, he walks me backward, then grabs my hips, turning me and folding me over the side of the bed. I reach up, grabbing a pillow, and he makes a noise low in his throat as he bunches the fabricof my skirt in his hands, using it to rock me back against his cock without pushing inside.
“I can take it off—” I start, but he grabs my ass, pushing me down on the bed in protest.
“No,” he says. “I like it.”
For some reason, the sound of that makes me even wetter, and I think about the two heats I’ve had since being here—the first one that first night, and then one again a week later.
I’m surprised my body isn’t reacting to him like that now, with the impossible pleasure of his mating bite throbbing on my neck.
Lachlan rocks against me a few more times, sliding his cock against my folds, then he seems to get impatient and kicks at my heels, widening my stance. When he plants his hand on my lower back and pushes me down, it makes the air rush out of me, and in the next second, he’s sliding inside.
“How are you so fucking tight every time?” he asks, each pump of his cock a long, smooth, slow motion.
I open my mouth to answer, but I couldn’t get a word out if I tried. My mouth still tastes like him, and he’s still leaking out of me from before, which only seems to make him enjoy it more.
When he reaches up, grabbing my hips and holding me, I gasp, knowing what it means, preparing myself for him to thrust harder, deeper, bringing his hips flush with mine and driving me down on the bed.
I let out every noise into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets, pleasure curling up inside me and living there, stretching out, reaching into every corner of my body.
When Lachlan is inside me, I feel it in the tips of my fingers, over my kneecaps, along the small of my back. When hisknot starts to form again, pushing deliciously at all the deepest parts inside me, it unlocks a pleasure I’ve never known with anyone else, one I know I won’t be able to find again.
I scream his name as I grip the pillow and the bed. I let the tidal wave of tight, coursing pleasure pull me under and force me to the surface again.
And when he thrusts one last time, collapsing over me, moaning my name into the nape of my neck, I whimper, so glad I have this mating mark now.
Because I don’t know what I would do without this. I don’t know what I would do without his touch, without his cock here to reach the deepest parts of me. I would never find another man who could touch me like this, so thoroughly anticipate my needs and meet them before I’m even able to articulate what they are.
When I come back from the bathroom, Lachlan is sitting up in the bed, smiling at me as I climb back in over him and straddle him. My mating mark thrums on my neck, warm and soothing, like a painless tattoo.
The smile fades from his face, and he watches me intently as I run my lips over his chest, breathing in his scent. He marked me, and now it’s my turn. To pick a place on his body that will bear my mark for the rest of his life. That will show every person we meet that he belongs to me.
The next time he sees his parents, they’ll be able to smell my scent on him.
They’ll know that the girl who started the fire is their son’s mate. His partner.
And maybe, eventually, his wife.
I take my time touching him, enjoying the feeling of his skin under my lips and fingers. He shivers and holds still, seeming to understand without me saying it that this is important to me, that I need this time to choose my spot.
Most people bite on the neck. It’s somewhat traditional, and typically pretty accessible when you’re having sex. The shifters I know who got overwhelmed and bit someone they didn’t necessarily mean to, it’s been on the neck during sex.
Maybe by doing this while I’m thoroughly sexed out and not turned on much at all, I can show Lachlan how serious this is to me. How seriously I took his promise that he wanted all of me.
How seriously I’m going to give that to him.
Finally, I settle on the part of his body that I’ve always wanted to bite. I kiss his bicep, open my mouth over it, and look up, meeting his eyes.
He stares down at me so openly, so intensely, that when I bite down, I see the moment the pleasure hits him, zipping over his pupils like an electrical current.
“Oh,” he groans. “Valerie.”
Lachlan puts his hand on the back of my head, just like he did earlier, applying gentle pressure, encouraging me to bite down harder.
