Page 12 of Off Limits
His mouth found Asher's collarbone, teeth scraping over the delicate skin. Not breaking it, not yet, but leaving marks. Evidence. Warning to any other wolves who might catch his scent:this one is taken.
Asher made a sound—soft and confused and definitely not the fear it should have been. His hands came up to Gabriel's shoulders, not pushing away but gripping, like he was trying to ground himself. His head tilted slightly, giving Gabriel better access. "This is insane," he whispered, but his voice was breathless, wanting. "You're not—this isn't?—"
"Mine," Gabriel growled against his skin, the word torn from somewhere deeper than thought. "Should have claimed you years ago." His human mind screamed at the wrongness of it—Asher didn't know what he was in for, didn't understand yet.
Gabriel's hands moved to Asher's wrists, pinning them above his head. The position made Asher's back arch, exposed his throat completely. An offering, Gabriel wanted to believe. Submission.
His mouth traveled lower, finding a nipple and closing around it. The taste of Asher's skin exploded across his senses—salt and want and that underlying sweetness that marked him as Gabriel's perfect match. He bit down carefully, just enough to leave a mark, and Asher's body jerked beneath him.
"Fuck," Asher gasped, and his arousal was undeniable now, his cock hard against Gabriel's stomach. His hips shifted slightly, creating friction that made him bite his lip. "Gabriel, please?—"
Please what? Stop? Continue? Explain? The wolf chose to interpret it as encouragement, but the struggling scraps of Gabriel's human willpower screamed that this was wrong, that Asher didn't really want this,couldn'twant this.
That failing willpower couldn’t stand up to instinct. Not tonight.
Gabriel's hands moved to Asher's jeans, yanking them down in one rough movement. The underwear followed, until Asher was naked beneath him. Exposed to the night air, to the moon's silver light, to Gabriel's hungry gaze.
Beautiful. His mate was beautiful. All lean muscle and pale skin, marked now with Gabriel's possession—bite marks, scratches, bruises forming in the shape of his fingers.
Gabriel's gaze traveled lower, taking in the evidence of Asher's arousal. His cock was hard, flushed and leaking, betraying his body's response to what was happening.
This was exactly how Gabriel had pictured him in those tortured fantasies—responsive, marked, aroused. But the reality was somuch more than his imagination had conjured. The way Asher's chest rose and fell with quick breaths, the way his thighs had fallen open, the way he kept licking his lips nervously.
Everything Gabriel had told himself he could never have was right here, warm and real and his for the taking.
See?the wolf insisted.He wants this. Wants us.
Gabriel lowered his body until they were aligned, skin to skin, his weight pinning Asher completely. The contact sent electricity through him—rightness and wrongness warring in every nerve.
"Please," Asher whispered again, and his hands had found their way to Gabriel's hair, fingers tangling in the silver strands—not pulling him away but holding him there. His legs shifted restlessly, thighs falling open wider. "Gabriel, I don't understand what's happening."
The wolf decided it didn't matter. Understanding would come later. For now, there was only the claim.
Even if it was wrong.
Gabriel's hand gripped Asher's jaw, turning his head to expose the side of his neck. The perfect spot for a claiming bite, where neck met shoulder, where the mark would be visible, permanent, binding.
Not yet,some last vestige of humanity insisted.Not like this…
His teeth found that spot, pressing down with careful pressure. Not breaking skin yet, but close. So close. A warning or a promise—he didn't know which anymore.
Beneath him, Asher had gone very still. But it wasn't the stillness of fear—his fingers tightened in Gabriel's hair, his body archedslightly, and a soft sound escaped him that went straight to Gabriel's cock. His heart raced so fast Gabriel could feel it against his chest.
His scent was a storm of emotions—confusion, arousal, anticipation, and underneath it all, something that might have been recognition. As if some part of him, some primitive instinct, understood what was happening.
What was about to happen.
What couldn't be stopped.
7
Asher couldn't breathe.
Not just from the weight pinning him to the forest floor, though Gabriel was heavy—all hard muscle and relentless strength—but from the sheer impossibility of what was happening.
Gabriel Stone, the man who'd haunted Asher's most shameful fantasies since he turned eighteen, was naked above him, amber eyes wild with something that definitely wasn't human.
Werewolf. The word kept circling in his brain, refusing to compute. But those elongated canines catching the moonlight were pretty fucking convincing.
