Page 34 of Rebel for Claws
She looked up into those storm-grey eyes. "Yes," she whispered. "When this is over, when we've restored harmony to our world and bridged the gap between humans and shifters... I want to complete our mate bond, more than anything."
The words hung between them, heavy with promise and possibility. His pupils dilated, and she caught the faint glow of gold—his wolf responding to hers, to the admission of what they both wanted.
"You're sure?" His voice had dropped to that gravelly tone that made her insides clench with want.
Instead of answering with words, she pressed up on her toes, closing the distance between them. Her hands found the edges of his torn shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her palms.
"I'm sure," she breathed against his lips.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his powerful body. When his mouth claimed hers, there was nothing tentative about it. This wasn't the careful exploration of their first kiss in his office. This was pure, undiluted hunger—a claiming that spoke of possession and promise and desperate need.
This is what I've been missing my entire life. This raw connection, this perfect matching of souls.
His hands tangled in her loosened braid, angling her head to deepen the kiss. She could taste the wildness in him, the barely leashed control of an Alpha who'd finally found his true mate. Her own control began to fray as her body responded to his dominance.
The kiss was fire and starlight, promise and possession. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against hers.
"You have no idea," he said roughly, "how long I've wanted this and how long I've waited for you, my fated mate, to come into my life and make it whole."
FOURTEEN
ALARIC
Vivian didn't respond to Alaric's honest confession with words. Instead, her hands cupped his face, soft but firm, and she kissed him again. This kiss was different—slower and deeper, as though she was pouring every unspoken emotion into it. Heat surged through his veins, a wildfire that threatened to consume him. His hands tightened in her hair, his breath hitching as their tongues tangled.
Alaric guided her to the stone cave wall, pressing her back against it with a possessive growl. His lips left hers to trail down her neck, savoring the sweet skin there. He imagined the day he would mark her, claim her as his mate in the most primal way. His teeth grazed the sensitive spot below her ear, and she gasped.
Her hands moved to the torn remains of his white formal shirt, already hanging open. She pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the cave floor. He stood before her, bare chested, his muscled frame illuminated by the flickering firelight. Her violet eyes roamed over him, and he felt a surge of pride at the way she drank him in.
"Like what you see?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
"You know I do," she replied, her voice breathless but laced with a challenge.
He smirked, his hands moving to her tactical gear and clothes. Slowly, he removed each piece—her black tactical jacket, the leather harness that held her swords, the hip holster with her throwing knives, her black thermal shirt, her black tactical pants, even her combat boots and socks. Each item hit the stone floor with a soft thud, until she stood before him in nothing but her white lace bra and panties.
Alaric's breath caught. She was so breathtaking—every curve, every scar, every inch of her was a work of art. His eyes darkened with hunger, and the possessive Alpha within him roared to life.
"Mine," he growled, the single word heavy with meaning.
Her lips curved into a sly smile. "Yours," she agreed, her voice soft but sure.
His hands trembled slightly as he traced the line of her collarbone, his lips following the path his fingers made. His mouth trailed lower until he found her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples through the lace of her bra until she let out a sharp gasp. Her hands reached behind her back, unclasping the bra with practiced ease. It fell to the cave floor, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze.
Alaric didn't hesitate. His mouth found her nipple again, licking and sucking until she was arching into him, her hands clutching his hair. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention, savoring the way she trembled under his touch.
"Alaric," she moaned, her voice a plea.
"Tell me what you need," he demanded, his voice rough with desire.
"More," she whispered, her fingers tightening in his short black hair.
He obeyed, his lips trailing down her toned abdomen until he reached the waistband of her lace panties. He teased hersensitive folds through the fabric with his fingers, feeling the evidence of her arousal. When he finally pulled her panties down her legs, she stepped out of them.
Kneeling before her, Alaric took a moment to drink in the sight of her—the way her body quivered with anticipation, and the way her scent filled the air, sweet and intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, his breath hot against her skin.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice reverent.
Her hands tangled in his hair again, urging him closer. He didn't resist. His tongue found her wet folds, licking and sucking until she was gasping, and her knees were shaking. He added two fingers, curling them inside her, and she cried out, the sound echoing off the cave walls.
