She sawed her legs together, her breath coming in heaves. Mewling sounds escaped her lips.
“Kerrigan…” Bending so his chest brushed hers, he clenched his teeth at the sweet sensation of skin against skin. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
His hand slid down her belly, while he teased her nipples with his mouth. Working his fingers into her panties, he felt the little patch of soft hair, and then… wetness. She was drenched. His nose told him she was ready, but this was proof. For a second, he marveled in the knowledge that he’d done this. That she was lost to his touch, moaning, and wet because of him.
Wolf wanted a taste. Trager wanted a taste. Needed it, if he ever hoped to draw another breath.
His movements rough, he jerked her panties down her legs, and settled between her thighs. He took one second to admire her sweet spot before he spread her open.
“Wait, no.”
She started to sit up, but he held her down with one hand on her belly. Half snarling, he met her eyes over the valley of her breasts, daring her to say no again. Wolf would accept nothing less than her total submission on this. The only way he was backing down was if she got scared.
With a helpless sound, she dropped her head back to the pillow and spread her legs for him.
Trager gave her one long lick. Closing his eyes, he moaned, because after days, he was finally able to taste her arousal on his tongue. Again, he licked, sinking his tongue into her soft folds, getting lost in her and never wanting to be found.
When her thighs began to quiver and her small fist pounded the mattress, he let up, teasing her, kissing and gently blowing.
“More,” she moaned.
He intensified his actions, bringing her close, and then easing back. Close, and then back. Soft, and then hard. Once they reached the cliff of her orgasm, he wanted to push her so far over the edge she’d never find her way back.
She’d never forget him. She’d never leave him. She’d never reject him.
Kerrigan shuddered, crying out, as she came apart under his tongue. She writhed against him, for what seemed like forever. But he never wanted her to stop.
Eventually, she settled, and he rose up to stare at her. She was gorgeous, flushed and relaxed, with her hair spread all over the pillow. Satisfaction like nothing else filled him, to the brim. This was his woman, and he’d pleasured her fully.
Her eyes opened a fraction. “Trager?”
He swallowed back his emotion. “Yes, love?”
“Was that… okay?”
He laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms. His erection was painful, but he hardly cared. His wolf would handle it. “It was perfect. Fucking beautiful.” He nuzzled her neck, memorizing the way her scent changed.
“What about you?” Her eyes blinked closed and didn’t open.
“You’re too tired right now, for what I want to do to you.”
“But… it’s your turn.”
“Turn? There are no ‘turns.’”
“You know what I mean.”
He softly kissed the rosy blush of her cheek. “When I have my turn, it’s going to be inside of you, and with my mark.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she mumbled, sleepily.
“I know.”
Trager felt her drift off seconds later. As her breathing deepened, he realized there had never been a more perfect moment in his life. His woman satisfied and resting in his arms… he finally felt like the wolf he was meant to be. He hadn’t realized he’d been floundering all these years. Sure, he knew he was nothing without a mate, been told so his whole life. But until this moment, he hadn’t realized how true it was.
He reached for the blanket to cover her, but she stirred.
“Are you leaving?” Her words were slurred and sad.
“No, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
Ever, his wolf growled.
Chapter Ten
Kerrigan awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Muted light filtered through the shade on her bedroom window, and it took her several seconds to remember what happened last night.
An array of feelings assaulted her. So many, she couldn’t put a name to them all. She was a little embarrassed. Trager had…
She squeezed her legs together, and rolled onto her side.
Ethan had done that once. And only once. He’d complained that he didn’t like how it tasted. The whole conversation had mortified her, and they’d never broached the subject again.
But Trager, he’d wanted to. Had seemed mad when she tried to stop him.
More and more, she was beginning to think that there was nothing wrong with her. She’d simply been with the wrong man all this time.
Sitting up, she spotted the note on the pillow.
You sleep like the dead. Come to the kitchen.