Page 22 of Wild Fated Mate
He shook his head. “Who’s in charge, Sunshine?”
I wanted to scream in frustration. He liked it when I showed him what I liked, said what I wanted, didn’t he?
“You are.” My response was petulant.
“I am.” He leaned forward, his lips tracing the path his claw had blazed along my tender skin. He paused every so often to nip and lick as he made his way down to my waistband.
I was whimpering, writhing, my vulnerable skin abraded by his beard, dampened by his tongue, prickling with a thousand points of energy shooting straight to my clit.
“Please.” I gasped. He was so close and yet so far. Just like my orgasm.
He dipped his head down to my jeans-clad pussy, his hot mouth hovering above the material.
“I can smell you. I can hear your heartbeat. You’re so close.” His words were hard rasps, lined with a hint of awe. He lifted his gaze, lust and love breaking past the lurking animal.
“It’s for you, Gavin. Because of you.” I held his gaze, somehow knowing he needed this reassurance that I wasn’t scared of any part of him. That if I pushed at his rules, it wasn’t to push him away. He could pull out the claws and fangs and roar as much as he wanted. He’d have to get used to the idea that I wasn’t so pure and fragile I would break in the face of his need.
I wasn’t turned on in spite of who he was, but because I accepted every part of him.
There was no way to hide my reaction, to hide my love and attraction from a man who heard my heartbeat race or could actually smell the way he turned me liquid. He’d get to growl and assert himself as much as he wanted, because I’d never stop butting up against that line.
He let out a shaky breath.
And then I was stripped out of my jeans so fast I lost my own breath.
He pushed my free hand up over my head, stretching me until I felt the headboard brush against my knuckles. He opened my fingers and wrapped them around a post.
I’d barely looked at the bed when we came in here, but it felt nubby and knotted like a tree branch, yet smooth under my hand.
“Don’t let go.”
I nodded.
He trailed his hand down my side, and I wriggled away from the tickling sensation.
“Sunshine,” he growled a warning, and I stilled, biting my lip to keep from giggling.
He cupped both breasts, and pinched one nipple, hard enough to halt my laughter.
He brought his head to my other nipple and swirled his tongue around the tip, scraping a fang across the bud, then alternated pinching and sucking, licking and scraping, until I thought I’d break the bedpost with how hard I was pulling.
But I never let go.
Gavin moved his way down my body, wedging his wide shoulders between my thighs. He’d managed to keep my panties on as he’d disappeared my jeans, and the damp fabric clung to me under his heated gaze.
“Fuck. Your pussy smells like the best parts of summer: vanilla sugar icing and lemonade.” He pressed his mouth over my mound, sucking at me through my panties. He groaned and ran a finger under the fabric to separate it from my skin. The brush of his finger against my clit had me arching uncontrollably.
He did it again and again, until I was mewling for more.
“I love that sound,” he said. He pulled his finger away and hooked a claw under both sides of the material where it rode low on my hips, and then it was gone, and I was bare to his gaze.
Bared to the bear. My laugh caught in my throat as he used his thumbs to part my swollen pussy.
“Perfect,” he breathed out. “So pink and wet and waiting for me.” He met my gaze, his eyes hard as rough huffs of breath rolled along my skin. “Just. For. Me.”
“Just you, Gavin. Only you.” I didn’t have an animal inside me—yet—but that same fierce place that forced my anger to the surface in the forest rose again as I said the words.
His grin was quick and sharp and gone as he put his mouth where I needed it most. He lapped at my center. Small licks with his tongue curled, up and down, dipping into my center. His thumbs pinning my puffy lips in place, spreading me wide despite the slick slide of my arousal making everything slippery.
