Merrily Mated(25)

“Your love feels like strong arms wrapping me up tight to shield me from the world. It feels like a promise to never leave. It feels like a butterfly trapped in my belly, because it scares me a little, but excites me more. It’s always been that way. Scary but exciting.”

He brought his gaze back to her, and saw nothing but truth in her eyes.

“Yeah?” He fingered her cheek, loving the silky skin there.

“Yeah.”

Scary but exciting. Like an adventure waiting to happen.

Something built in his chest. Something explosive and wonderful. The bond. And the more she talked, the more he could feel exactly what she described, even if it seemed impossible.

“You love me.”

She nodded, giving him a watery smile. “And you love me. I know because you were willing to sacrifice your feelings in order to make me better. Willing to help me heal whether or not you received anything in return.”

Ryan pressed his forehead to hers and let their new reality sink in. This was happening. This was true.

“I feel it,” he breathed. And it felt so good he had to bite his cheek to keep tears from his eyes. Because no fucking way were they both going to cry.

Layna clung to him with her arms tight around his neck, and he pulled back to stare into her eyes. “You’re mine?”

She nodded, letting the wetness roll down her cheeks. “I will be forever. Like you said. Christmases and grandchildren and Facebook posts.”

“My Layna.” It sounded different now. Realer. And it made him want to fly. Climb a mountain and shout it from the top. He wanted everyone to know. His mama—he really should call her—his clan, the people of Weston, Santa fucking-Claus, anyone who would listen.

“My Ryan.”

And, oh. That sounded perfect too. He belonged to her, body, heart, mind, and soul.

He bent, capturing her lips and kissed her hard, promising their future would be legendary. Brushing his mouth over her jaw, he worked his way lower, sucking the tender skin of her neck and leaving a trail of tortured pink along the column of her throat.

His hands were callused and rough, but he hoped they weren’t too hard for her because he planned on touching her everywhere starting with the soft tits that pressed into his chest.

Ryan swept his fingers up her hip, over her toned waist, finding home on one precious mound. He squeezed, her nipple pebbling against his palm while she let out a satisfied moan. He grinned against her other breast. Pulling these sounds from her would never grow old.

With his tongue, he traced a circle around her nipple, looking up to see her watching him. Her eyes were pleasure-glazed and intent on his next move.

Exactly how he wanted her.

Eyes still locked on hers, he took the tightened bud into his mouth, sucking and rolling it against his tongue. She rewarded him with another gasp and her hands raking his hair.

Fuck. He didn’t know if he could keep going slow.

Desperately, her nails clawed a path down his neck and over his shoulder while he lapped at her sensitive nipples. He was lost in her body, loving her taste, her feel, her smell…

So when she let out a violent hiss followed by a snarled, “What the fuck?” Ryan was completely thrown.

His gaze flew to her face and what he saw there both turned him on and gave him pause.

Layna’s cougar was close to the surface, her eyes flickering from cat to human, slightly glowing with the power of her shifter.

Hot as fuck.

But what had him worried was the way she glared at him accusingly. Fuming. Like she was about to eat him, and not in a good way.

“Who marked you?”





Chapter Eight



Ryan’s lusty mouth frowned and he looked utterly confused, but Layna had no time for that. Not when her cougar was clawing her to shreds with jealousy. Someone had given her male a mating mark, and damn it, when she found out who, there was going to be a fight.

He was hers. No one else’s. And no mark would change it.

Her stomach curled and she shook with despair. He’d been with another in the clan. How could they come back from this? How could she trust him? Sure, it was before they were a couple, but… one of her clan. The idea that another of their females knew what it was like to be taken by him… it was unbearable.

“What are you talking about?” He sat back on his knees, rubbing at his sternum. No doubt he could feel her panic and disappointment through their connection.

The bond. At least there was no bond with another. There couldn’t be if his bond was with her.

“Someone marked your shoulder,” she accused, the words tasting like bile.

“Oh, that.” His shoulders sagged as if bleeding his tension. He looked so relieved she wanted to punch him.

“Was it Doc? I will cut a bitch. Bailey? Who? You better tell me right now, Ryan, or so help me god, I’ll—”