Page 47 of Broken Bonds
His lips curl in a sexy sneer. “Got you where I want you now, don’t I, baby?”
I’m too deep to answer. All I want is to chase my pleasure and feel him get off inside me. There were times in our early days, after my initiation, where we’d spend days at a time locked inside riding each other to exhaustion, collapse, sleep, wake up, eat, hydrate, and climb all over each other again. It took us several weeks to level out to a point where we could function outside of each other’s presence for more than a few hours at a time.
And I loved staying naked when we were alone because he’d frequently grab me and bend me over any available surface to fuck me. His possessive hunger alone could shoot me over the edge, sometimes hardening me again even before he finished just for him to remain inside me, reach around me, and jerk me off.
Over the years, one of his favorite things has become this—making me get my nut simply from riding him. I slant my lips over his again, closing my eyes and groaning as he squeezes my ass, holding on.
Never letting me go.
Another thing I’m glad about—we’re both shifters and will live long lives, Goddess willing. I won’t say sad goodbyes to my love anytime soon, and I am damned determined to make good use of all our time together.
When he lets out another low, rumbling growl it finishes me off. My balls tighten and it only takes a couple of strokes before I’m coming and he starts fucking himself into me to catch up and finish as close as he can with me. Our kisses turn sweet, gentle, playful nips and nuzzles.
He cups the back of my head and presses my forehead to his. “I love you so fucking much,” he hoarsely says. “I’m the luckiest asshole on the planet. Please don’t let me screw up our kids.”
I thread my fingers through his hair. “Guys who are bad fathers never worry as much as you do that they’ll screw up their children.”
“Are you using logic on me?”
I smile. “I’m trying to, if you’d get the fuck out of your own damned way.”
That coaxes a laugh from him. “Thank you, baby.”
After a shower, we retreat to bed, but there won’t be more sex tonight. We’re too exhausted—and sated—to do more than cuddle once we set our morning alarms.
“If you ever don’t want to participate in stuff?—”
I cut him off. “If I don’t want to do something, I am adult enough to speak up,” I assure him. “I love that you’re in charge. I love that you’re my mate. But if I could change one thing about you, it’s that you could see yourself the way we all see you and convince you that you are not a bad guy by any metric. Randolph Sterling isn’t a fraction of the man you are in any measurable way.”
He sighs. “Goddess, I hope you never get sick of me.”
“Just remember that when I’m pregnant and whiny.”
That earns me another laugh. “I will go midnight shopping and change diapers and do anything else you need.”
And I know those aren’t just pretty words, but a genuine promise.
“I just need you to love and trust me,” I say.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mal
Eyes Opened
When we return from running errands, I help Todd bring in the groceries and he invites me to come back for a drink after I put my things away.
Of course I say yes.
“Were you born into the pack?” I ask once we’ve settled in his living room with beers.
“No. Lived here nearly all my life. Mom and I joined when I was ten.” I must have a look on my face because he sits back. “No, I was a kid,” he adds. “We protect kids in this pack. I didn’t know anything about initiation back then. Kids are kids.
“Mom was human. Dad was killed during a run. Supposedly a ‘hunting accident,’ but my uncle sure as hell wasted no time kicking us out of the herd. Dad was an Alpha, next in line to take over, and my grandfather was ready to retire and hand over control. So my uncle became the leader. And he gave us a week to pack and leave because the herd owned the house, not us.”
That leaves me with other questions. “But…aren’t most of the guys in this pack gay?”
He shrugs. “Most of them who join as adults, yes. But we have straight guys born into the pack—and girls—and some who join. Adult women who join either because, like Mom, they find their way here, or because they mate into it. Is the initiation fun? Yeah. It’s supposed to be fun. Build camaraderie. But it’s also for survival. When Mom and I arrived we were lucky that one of the older guys in the pack, Caleb, his husband had been a human and died about ten years before we arrived.”
