Page 91 of Broken Forced Mate
“Only if you do. Not because of political pressure or pack expectations or anything external.”
“Because we choose each other.”
“Because we actually love each other.”
The words are finally spoken aloud after weeks of careful dancing around deeper feelings.
“I do love you,” I admit, meeting his eyes. “Not the way I expected when this all started, but the way I actually feel now.”
“I love you too. The real you.”
“The stubborn, independent, sometimes reckless me?”
“Especially that version. That’s who I fell in love with.”
We kiss then, with growing confidence as emotional barriers finally dissolve. The connection feels different now—chosen rather than imposed, welcomed rather than resisted.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks against my mouth.
“I’m sure. Surer than I’ve been about anything.”
“Because once we complete the bond—”
“I know what it means. I want it. I want you. I want us.”
He lifts me and carries me to our bedroom while I kiss along his jaw and neck, tasting salt and warmth and the scent that’s become so familiar again. We undress each other slowly this time, taking care to explore and appreciate without the desperate hurry.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me as he drags his hands over the curves of my body with reverent attention that makes me shiver.
“So are you. More than I realized.”
His mouth follows the path his hands traced, kissing and caressing and making me arch beneath him. When he finds sensitive spots that make me gasp and squirm, he lingers there, flicking his tongue over it once more.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers against my skin.
“Everything. I want everything with you.”
“We have all night. All the time in the world.”
I explore his body in return, tracing every line of muscle across his chest and shoulders. I trail kisses down his chest and abdomen, feeling his muscles tense under my touch. WhenI reach the waistband of his pants, I look up to meet his eyes before slowly pulling them away. He’s already rock-hard, and I take him in my hand to stroke him slowly while watching his face contort with pleasure.
“God, yes,” he breathes as I lower my mouth to taste him.
I explore him thoroughly, using my tongue and lips until he’s trembling with need. His hands tangle in my hair, not to control but to anchor himself as I bring him close to the edge before pulling back.
“I need you,” he says roughly, pulling me up to kiss me deeply.
When he rolls us over, his mouth finds my breasts, and he sucks hard and bites until I bow off the bed. His hand slides between my legs, where his fingers find me already wet and ready as he slips inside.
“You’re so ready for me,” he mumbles against my throat.
“I want you inside me,” I whisper back.
When he positions himself at my entrance, we lock eyes as he pushes in slowly, and I throw my head back to moan. He fills me, and we move together in a rhythm that builds steadily toward something like heaven.
“I love you,” he tells me, moving deeper as passion builds like a slow tide.
“I love you, too. More than I thought possible.”
