This was the moment they'd both been searching for, and they found heaven and home all at once in each other's embrace. As he began to withdraw, Kirstin caught him between her thighs, crying out at the loss.
"Do'na leave me," she begged hoarsely, clinging to him, even as she still quivered with her climax.
"Nuh, lass," he whispered. "I'll ne'er leave ye. Not as long as m'body draws breath. Yer mine, Kirstin MacFalon, and ye'll be mine e'ermore."
"What did ye call me?" she whispered, lifting the curtain of hair away from his stubbly face as he leaned in to kiss hers, brushing his lips over her forehead and cheeks and chin, soft presses of love.
"Kirstin MacFalon," he said again, going up to his elbow to look down at her. "Me wife. If ye'll 'ave me. I know 'tis fast, but ye said ye felt the same way I did..."
"Oh, aye," she breathed, arms snaking around his neck, her face moving to the soft, damp skin of his throat. "I'd settle for nothin' less, Donal MacFalon."
"Do I need t'ask Raife fer yer hand?" He cocked his head, quizzical. "What do wulvers do?"
"Ye do'na e'en need t'ask me, Donal." She traced the strong, square line of his jaw with her fingertip. "Wit' wulvers, there is naught any askin'-only claimin', and ye've a'ready done that."
"Isn't there some sort of markin'?" he asked.
"Aye," she agreed, nodding. "But if I'm t'be t'wife of The MacFalon, I should hold t'yer traditions."
"We should do both." He caught her hand and turned it, face up, so he could kiss her palm. "King Henry wanted me t'mend the rift at t'border by marryin' an Englishwoman, but instead I'll marry t'border b'tween t'wulvers and t'Scots."
"Seal t'wolf pact wit' a kiss?" she teased, sliding a thigh over his. Their feet were still wet from the water, but the slant of sun was warming and drying them.
"I'll seal it wit' more'n that." He kissed her, mouth open, tongue meshing with hers, tracing slowly over her teeth, exploring every inch of her.
"Oh Donal," she whispered when they parted, dizzy with wanting him. "I want ye so much... when can we do't again?"
"Och, I'm a man, not a wulver," he groaned as she reached her hand down to squeeze his length. To her surprise-and apparently to his as well, given the way his eyebrows went up-he began to stiffen in her fist. "Ye bring out the beast in me, lass."
"Good."
She pushed the man to his back, tracing her tongue over around the mounds of hard muscle on his chest, pausing to flick each nipple, making the cock in her hand swell. The hair on his chest curled around her fingers as she explored every glorious plane and angle, a hand raking over his belly, a delicious, ridged mountain range of flesh. Her tongue traced the dark line of hair that traveled from navel to nest, his snake now rising up, staring at her with its one good eye.
"Och, lass, yer mouth-"
She sucked the head between her lips, tasting his musk, her juices, taking as much of him inside her as she possibly could, all the way to the back of her throat, and still she couldn't take him all. The man was more claymore than broad sword, a giant mass of swinging steel meant to take what was rightfully his. And she wanted to be taken.
Her fingernails raked the soft seed sacks hanging underneath his cock, and Donal hissed, shifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into her throat so she gagged a little on his length. But she didn't mind. His hand moved through her hair, guiding her, a hot, steady rhythm they both lost themselves in. She could have gone on forever, worshipping his staff, kneeling at the altar between her mate's thighs, but he pulled her off, looking down at her with half-closed eyes.
"Yer mine," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes filled with it, both the longing and the knowledge at once. "I will'na let ye go, Kirstin, not e'er."
"Ye talk overmuch," she teased, rubbing the head of him against her swollen, red lips. "How ‘bout ye show me instead of tellin' me, Donal MacFalon?"
"Oh, aye." His eyes darkened at her words. "I'll show ye."
"If ye can catch me." She grinned and was off like a shot before he could move, laughing as she heard him swear behind her, struggling to catch up.
She made it into the pack leader's chambers, almost all the way to the bed before he caught her from behind, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her into his big arms. She giggled and squirmed, loving the way he roughly turned her to face him, hands moving down to squeeze her bottom.
"Caught ye," he growled in her ear, his erection rising up to nudge her belly, trapped between them. "Now I get t'claim ye."
"Aye." She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her easily in his arms. Kirstin's legs went around him, heels digging into the small of his back as he lifted and aimed her, sliding his thick length in, deep and hard, as if he were running her through. Kirstin cried out at the sensation, thinking she would never, ever stop wanting this, craving him, needing him.
Donal moved toward the bed but Kirstin shook her head.
"Like this," she whispered hoarsely, beginning to move her hips in little circles. "Standin', jus' like this."
He moaned and turned toward the fireplace. The room was full dark, the only light coming from the torch at the end of the passageway. They could barely see each other, but it didn't matter. Kirstin felt every big, beautiful inch of him as he pressed her to the rock wall beside the big fireplace, driving up inside her with fierce, harsh thrusts that threatened to break her spine against the stone.
Not that she cared.
She was crazed with heat, her nails raking his back like claws, her teeth sinking into the hard, muscled skin of his shoulder. Donal grunted at that, but he didn't stop pounding into her, the slap of their flesh a hot, rhythmic beat. Kirstin's sex squeezed and massaged him, and she rocked in his arms, meeting him thrust for thrust.
"Yer lil cunny is so tight, lass," he panted in her ear. Words during mating were new to Kirstin, but she liked them. She liked the way he panted them, hot breath against her ear. "I could ride ye from dusk 'til dawn and still want more."
"Aye," she gasped, her walls quivering at his words, the dam threatening to flood. "Oh Donal, do'na stop. Do'na e'er stop."
"Nuh," he agreed, but he did stop, just for a moment.
To slide out of her, whirl her around, and bend her almost in half as he took her again, fingers probing between her legs, finding her crevice, and sliding back into the hot cavern of her sex. Kirstin's hands raked the stone, looking for something to hold onto, bracing herself against the rough thrust of his hips, the sweet torture of his cock up against her womb like a battering ram seeking entrance to something deeper inside her.
"Och, lass, I can'na hold out much longer," he cried, fingers gripping the curve of her hips, hard enough to leave bruises.
"Give it t'me," she urged, remembering his words to her. "I want all of ye. Please. Fill me wit' yer seed. Please, please, please, pl-"
Her sex was already spasming around his shaft, that unbelievable, quivering wave of pleasure pulsing through her, milking him. Kirstin howled, reaching back as he thrust forward, feeling the hard muscles of his behind working as he buried himself in to the base, shoving her flat against the wall, legs spread, feet completely off the ground, crushing her with his shuddering weight.
He didn't say anything then. He just picked her up in his arms like a bit of fluff and carried her to the bed. He pulled her on top of him, wrapping them up in the coverlet. It was soft and freshly laundered and they floated on a cloud together in the darkness. She might have slept-must have, because when she woke, there was a fire lit in the fireplace and her mate was no longer in bed.
"Donal?" She lifted her dark head from the pillow, hand searching the mattress for his big frame, but finding only empty space.
"Here, m'love," he called.
She saw him sitting on a deerskin by the fire, something in his hands.
Kirstin wrapped the coverlet around her and went to him, putting her arms around him from behind, kissing the broad, hard planes of his back, resting her cheek there as she knelt on the deerskin. She had woken, afraid she'd been dreaming, only to find him still here. Questions loomed in her mind, threatening the flood of happiness rushing through her veins, and she pushed them away.
They'd deal with reality later. This, here, now-was all that mattered, all that ever would.
"I found somethin'." Donal put a hand over hers at his middle, caressing. "Come see."