Lone Wolf(57)
Ellison leaned down and yanked open the button of Maria’s jeans. She tried to help slide them down, but he had them off in a few swift jerks, pulling the panties after them. He left her shoes, slim sandals, on her feet, too impatient to remove them.
Ellison came back onto the bed, his warm bare body over hers, lowering himself without hurting her.
That was the last thing he did gently. He skimmed back her hair from her forehead and took her mouth in a deep, long kiss. His tongue tangled hers, the kiss hot and satisfying.
His kisses fell on her throat, her breasts, her belly, back to her breasts again. Ellison closed his mouth over one nipple, suckling, until Maria arched, the tight little pain bringing out a noise of pleasure.
More kisses, down her abdomen, one pressed to her navel, and the next between her legs. Maria felt his tongue, and she cried out. Ellison licked her there, moving his tongue around her opening, plunging inside it, her hips lifting from the mattress. Maria had never felt such a thing, had never experienced this kind of fine wildness.
Because Ellison did it for pleasure alone. The feral Shifters had cared only for their pleasure, and for creating cubs, and hadn’t been concerned about Maria.
Ellison was taking the time to show his mate pleasure, joy, how it felt to be treasured. It was loving, caring.
The sensation also had Maria winding toward climax. White fire rippled through her, radiating from Ellison’s skilled tongue all the way to her fingertips. She rocked against him, her hand furrowing his hair, pulling him closer, closer.
Ellison lifted his beautiful mouth away and slid his body up hers. He enclosed her in his arms, catching her cries of climax on his lips at the same time he slid straight into her.
Maria’s eyes widened. Yesterday in the water, she easing herself onto him, she’d not had this fullness. He’d filled her, yes, but tonight she had the entire length of him, and it was powerful. Ellison spread her wide, she tight and hot, the place where they joined filled with wonderful ache.
“Ellison,” she said, her voice rolling through the room. “I love you!”
“I love you, Maria.” His voice was fierce, his body strong. “Mate of my heart. Together. We do this together.”
“Always.” Together in life, in family, in love, now.
Maria rose to meet him, Ellison’s openmouthed kisses like washes of fire, Maria burning to ash beneath him.
She reached out to brush aside her fear, and found it dissolving under his heat and love, like dust motes over bluebonnets on a Texas spring breeze.