The Hunger (The Lycans 3)

“I need you, Caelan. I need you so bad that I ache.”

I had my arms wrapped around her waist a second later, pulled her impossibly closer to me, and lifted her off the ground so fast that even my head spun. I didn’t give her time to adjust before I was moving to the bed and laying her down in the center.

“Tell me again what you need,” I whispered against her lips as I covered her body with my much larger one. “Make it dirty, Darragh. Go intae detail what ye want yer mate tae do tae ye.”

The soft sigh that left her as our bodies pressed together, me on top, her under me and submitting so fully, was the greatest pleasure I would ever hear or feel. I smoothed a path with my lips along her cheek, down her jawline, and ran my tongue along the side of her neck, feeling her pulse beating under my tongue as I ran it up and down her jugular.

“Go on, Darragh,” I groaned. “Tell me what I want tae hear.” I gently nipped at the sensitive skin where her shoulder and neck met.

“You know what I want,” she moaned and arched her back.

“I know,” I hummed. “But I want tae hear ye say it.”

She had her hands on my biceps, her fingers digging into my flesh as she pulled me closer. Her breasts pressed to my chest, the peaks of her nipples hard.

I kept licking and sucking at the soft skin of her shoulder at the same time I pressed my cock against her pussy, hating the fact that we had so many damn clothes between us. I couldn’t stop myself from moving back and forth, dry humping my mate and feeling my balls draw up with an orgasm that threatened to have me blacking out.

She slid her hands up my arms and over my shoulders before spearing her fingers into my hair. The whimper that came from her had my canines aching and elongating. I kept running them down her throat, letting her feel how sharp they were, giving her a sample of what was to come.

I would put my mark on her. I would slide my canines deep into her neck and leave a little piece of me behind, letting all who looked upon it know that she was mine. It would be a physical warning not to touch her, look at her, hell, to not even speak to her, or they’d have me to deal with. A mated Lycan was a scary motherfucker.

“I need you now. In all ways.”

I pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“I need you inside me.” She arched her back again. “I’m so wet you’ll slide right in.”

I closed my eyes and felt my muscles clench at the erotic words. I let my hand move to the spot where my canines had just been and curled my palm around the slender column of her throat, adding a little bit of pressure. It wasn’t enough to cut off airflow, but I knew the heavy weight was a presence that heightened her arousal. I know it did to me. Immensely.

“How wet does this make ye?” I added the minutest amount of pressure, and she gasped, her moan spilling from those pink, swollen lips.

“So wet. I’m dripping.”

I closed my eyes as my body shuddered. I lowered my forehead to rest against hers, and for just a second we breathed the same air, both of us panting as if we’d just run a marathon. And then a red haze covered my vision as my wolf rose up with a viciousness that told me I had zero control right now.

Mate her.

Claim her.

Mark her so all know who she belongs to.

I was seconds away from tearing her fucking clothes off when she reached between us and tugged up her shirt.

“I need to go slow.” The words were harsh from me, but I instantly noticed her shaking her head.

“No. I don’t want slow. I need all of you. Right here. Right now. In the way you want to give it to me, Caelan.”

I slammed my hands onto the mattress beside her body, my nails elongating as my claws tore at the duvet until it was nothing but ribbons of fabric.

My body shook as my gaze latched on to her when she rose just enough to pull the shirt over her head. And then I stared at the swells of her breasts that were now revealed. My body swayed at the sight of those mounds, at the way the red peaks darkened even further, tightening as the air kissed them. My mouth watered, and I found myself sliding my hands along her abdomen and gently cupping the swells.

“Mine,” I whispered and leaned down, not stopping myself as I latched my mouth onto one of her nipples, and stroked my tongue over the tip. I was aware of the sounds I made, rough and hoarse, unintelligible murmurs of how much I wanted her. The Gaelic was mixing with the English, my desire too fierce to try to separate the two.