Page 39 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss
My heart jumps into my throat. Yes. Yes, that’s what I want. Forever, turning grey and getting wrinkles with my person. Tears of joy and relief threaten to fall, but Valentino cups my cheek, stopping me.
“Feel our connection, Cheyenne. I’m not ever letting go of you. And I’ll remind you every day if I have to. I am committed to you, obsessed with you, every little thing about you makes me want you.”
The first tear falls as I stare at him, the fullness and the joy inside of me growing exponentially. His heartbeat beneath my hands rings out in my mind, and I feel it. The tendrils of fate that connect us, his devotion and those first beats of love already there.
“I could never have imagined finding someone like you,” I whisper.
“Let me show you how real I am.”
Valentino holds me tight as he begins to thrust. Our bodies meet in perfect harmony, a collision of fur and skin, a growl and a moan, a werewolf and a human. It’s perfect and maddening. My thoughts jumble until I’m moaning nonsense and begging for more.
“Yes, so good, fuck your knot into me. I need your cum, breed me.”
His arms wrap around me tightly, holding my exhausted body to his chest as he starts to piston his hips. He fucks me harder and harder, and each time his knot pushes at my pussy.
“Let me in, sweetheart,” he moans into my ear, cold nose pressed to my temple. “I know you want to be a dirty girl for me, want to make a mess on my cock and mark my fur with your juices, but you need to breathe.”
When did I stop? I gasp, dragging in enough air that when I exhale the coil in my belly loosens. I do it again under Valentino’s guidance, his lips and teeth teasingmy skin until he’s fucking the full swell of his knot into me with every stroke.
The bulge, which presses right behind my clit every time, puts pressure on the sensitive and untouched part of me.
“That’s my girl, so fucking proud of you. Taking your mate’s cock. Ready for me to breed your little cunt.”
“I wanna come,” I whine. “Please.”
“You will, baby, gotta make it stick, don’t we?”
Just as I begin to think he can’t get any bigger, Valentino pulls me up from his chest. He slams my body down onto his and begins to rock us together. His knot presses hard on my clit, building a need inside me. I’m gasping for air again, unable to think beyond chasing the feeling. His thumb slides between us, spreading me wider until he’s flicking my clit.
My eyes roll back, my body screaming as my lower belly tightens until the world explodes. My pussy gushes, spasms, and sets off a chain reaction. Valentino drives deeper into me as I orgasm. A moan falls from his mouth as his cock shoots ropes of cum into me. His hips shake, and we collapse into each other.
I’m not sure how long we lie there, but his body slowly transforms back into a man. His claws massaging my back turn into fingers. His fur recedesto reveal his soft chest again. The muzzle kissing at my shoulder turns into a soft pair of lips.
It’s an easy transition from monster to man. Nothing terrifying this time, even as his bones crack and he shrinks beneath me. It all just feels right.
Except when his cock slides out of me and I’m left holding on to nothing. I groan, the ache of being stretched so far and the feeling of cum sticking to my thigh too much after the time I’ve had.
“We should get out of here,” he murmurs.
“Junelle will be furious if we miss the wedding.”
“Gotta shower and nap first.” He yawns.
“Take me to your suite then,” I say, kissing him.
We hadn’t forgotten about the wedding, it’s more that we forgot it was happening at the villa. There is a swarm of vans around the drive and flurries of people moving at a fast pace carrying trays and flowers and linens. They’re all trying to get this wedding day back on track. Ugo drives us up to the front door, and barks at everyone to scatter before Valentino lets me out of the car.
The shirt he stole from one of the corpses is barely long enough to cover my ass, but it does the job, and I won’t have to wear it for long.
Junelle is right there in her bonnet and pristine white wedding robe. She wraps her arms around me without hesitation, the blood on my shirt tacky and mostly dry. We cry big, fat ugly tears. Somewhere behind us men are talking, but they don’t matter right now.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she sniffles.
“I won’t,” I promise. “Not in a million years do I wanna do that again.”
“So you know now,” she says after another round of crying. “Explains a lot, doesn’t it?”
I nod because of course it doesn’t, but I’m too relieved to be back on solid ground to care about all the questions I still have. Junelle let go of our embrace only to pull me into another hug. Neither of us can stop crying, but soon my head starts to pound and my ears are ringing.
