Page 62 of Broken Forced Mate
“I’m memorizing,” I correct. “In case I never get the chance again.”
But God, I hope I’m wrong. I hope Mordaunt’s forces don’t tear apart everything we’re building before we have the chance to see where it leads.
But for now, for tonight, I push those fears away and focus on the woman beneath me.
I start at her throat and drag my tongue along the column of her neck until I find the spot that makes her arch off the bed. Her pulse speeds up against my lips, strong and steady, and the taste of salt gets stronger on my tongue the lower I go.
“I love the sounds you make,” I murmur against her throat.
“What sounds?”
“The little gasp when I touch you here.” I demonstrate, using my fingers to find the sensitive spot just below her ear. “The way you say my name when you want more.”
“Wyn,” she breathes, proving my point.
I work my way down her body, covering every inch of skin with my hands and mouth. Her breasts fit perfectly in my palms, and her nipples harden under my thumbs before I replace them with my tongue.
The taste of her skin changes as I move lower; it becomes more concentrated, more purely her. My wolf responds to the scent of her arousal by flooding my system with need, but I force myself to maintain control.
When I kiss the sensitive skin of her stomach, she gasps and arches beneath me. “Please,” she breathes.
“Please, what?”
“Touch me. Really touch me.”
I settle between her thighs and do exactly that, using my tongue to explore her most intimate places while she whimpers and writhes. Her taste fills my mouth until nothing exists except this moment, this woman, this connection between us.
She’s already soaking wet when I slide one finger inside her, then two, working her with slow strokes while my tongue focuses on the bundle of nerves that makes her cry out. The combination of sensations has her hands fisting in my hair, holding me against her as I work.
My wolf snarls with satisfaction at every sound she makes, every way her body responds to my touch. This is my mate, my woman, and hearing her pleasure makes something primal roar with possessiveness deep in my chest.
“Close,” she pants. “I’m so close.”
“Let go,” I encourage against her skin. “Let me watch you fall apart.”
When she comes, it’s with my name on her lips and her body clenching around my fingers. I work her through it gently, extending the pleasure until she’s both twitching and limp at the same time.
Her breathing comes hard and fast as she recovers, and I can smell the way her arousal has intensified rather than faded. Good. I’m nowhere near done with her yet.
“My turn,” she says when she can speak again, pushing at my shoulders.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. I’ve been thinking about this since that night in the armory.”
The admission sends fire through my veins. I let her push me onto my back, then help her remove the rest of my clothes until I’m as bare as she is.
Her hands explore me with the same dedicated attention I showed her, learning what makes me groan, what makes my hips buck involuntarily. When she wraps her hand around my cock and strokes, I have to grip the sheets to keep from losing control.
“God, Raegan.”
“I love watching you lose control,” she admits. “You’re always so careful, so in command. But not when I touch you like this.”
She’s right. With her, all my careful restraint crumbles. When she leans down and takes me in her mouth, I nearly come flying off the bed.
The wet heat of her tongue, the careful pressure of her lips, the way she learns what I like and does more of it…it’s almost too much to bear. I have to stop her before I finish in her mouth like some untried boy.
“Raegan, I need—”
