Page 68 of X-Clan The Origin
Feisty,I mused, loving her little claws.
I didn’t pick up the pace, though.
I kept it slow and thorough, slipping almost all the way out of her before gliding back into her. She clenched around me, her inner walls demanding that I knot her.
But I valued patience.
I wanted to prolong the experience.
Make her pant for it.
She was so fucking responsive, her tight little body built to accept my thrusts, my girth, mycock.
I’d never expected to take a mate.
And now I couldn’t think of a life without her.
My Riley. My Omega. My female.
I kissed her with every ounce of emotion I could fathom, wanting her to understand the devotion and gratitude I felt as a result of our union.
I’d worried she would come out of her heat and deny me. Yet she hadn’t. She’d accepted it without a backward glance. Her only concerns had been around understanding everything that had happened. I’d sensed doubt in her, but it hadn’t been the doubt I’d feared.
And I’d been thanking her with my mouth, hands, and body ever since.
She wrapped her legs around me, her sweet cunt rocking against me in a sensual kiss of bliss. It was an invitation and a taunt bundled up in one. She wanted me to fuck her harder while daring me not to.
“Vixen,” I murmured against her mouth.
She smiled. “Fuck me, Alpha.”
“I am.”
“Harder.”
“No.” I nipped at her lower lip and went even slower.
She growled.
Which provoked a growl of my own, one that had her shuddering against me. “Yeah, two can play at that game, Omega.” Only my growl made her even wetter and needier.
“Not fair,” she panted, arching into me again. “Jonas.”
I trailed kisses to her ear. “Patience,ástin mín.”
She shivered. “Ástin mín.” She seemed to be tasting the endearment, or perhaps echoing it to make sure she’d heard it correctly.
“My love,” I whispered, translating it for her as I slid all the way to the hilt inside her.
“Icelandic?”
“Mmm,” I hummed, confirming for her.
“I like it,” she admitted with a moan. “More.”
“You’re gorgeous,” I told her in Icelandic. “And very much mine. Only mine. Because I refuse to share you, my love. My wolf chose yours. My knot belongs to you. Only you.”
She contracted around me, her body shaking from my Icelandic words. She couldn’t understand them, but she certainly heard the sensual undertones caressing each statement.
