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Untamed Mate (Feral Shifters 2)

Page 46

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Amora

Holy shit.

My heart flutters almost painfully against my ribs as I lie nestled among the blankets with Frost’s weight on top of me. He’s still inside me, heavy and hot, filling every inch of my body and every corner of the void in my soul.

It takes me several moments to be able to breathe properly again, and as my heart rate slows a little, it’s as if all the bones in my body vanish. I can’t remember the last time I felt this satisfied, this absolutely languid, drifting on a wave of sated lust.

Though that’s not really true, is it?

I felt like this with Malix on the shores of that lake in New Mexico. I felt like this three years ago in the hotel with Kian. Despite Frost’s apparent inexperience, that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had.

The gorgeous blond shifter leans down, his lips brushing over my neck, adding more heat to my already perspiring skin. I close my eyes and relish the feel of his satin mouth closing over my racing pulse, my fingers digging into the taut muscles of his back.

This is perfect. He’s perfect.

But with that thought, panic creeps in at the edges of my consciousness, crowding out the fog of satisfaction. How can I still feel this way? Frost rejected the mate bond. All three of them did, cutting me off so thoroughly they might as well have ripped organs from my chest. By that alone, I shouldn’t feel anything for them now.

What just happened, though…

There was nothing empty about that. I tighten my legs around Frost’s waist, our bodies still connected, and turn my lips toward his. His mouth meets mine, and I submit to him, drinking in the slow intensity of his kiss, reveling in the weight of him between my thighs.

I felt the bond break. The spell was strong and potent, and I can’t deny how empty I’ve felt since that moment.

So why does it seem like the mate bond never actually went away?

Frost shifts his arm up beside me, his fingers sinking into my hair. He breaks the kiss, his eyes hooded as he pulls away to stare down at me. The crystalline, icy blue color of his irises is darker now. Maybe it’s from the dim light in the room, or maybe it’s from his desire, but either way, I feel like I could drown in the ocean of them.

Before I can fall, though, I’m distracted by his tattoos.

I trail my fingers over his shoulder and down the curve of his bicep, blinking in astonishment. “Your tattoos. They’re… they’re not moving.”

Frost glances down and grunts in acknowledgement. Then he latches an arm around my waist and rolls me on top of him, careful to keep his still semi-erect cock inside me, like he doesn’t want to break our connection.

I’m not sure I want to break that connection either, so I don’t complain.

Squeezing his hips with my knees, I press my fingertips to his chest and gently trace the stationary tattoos. “This isn’t normal for you. Your tattoos are usually so restless.”

He inclines his head in silent agreement.

“Why do yours move so much? Malix’s and Kian’s aren’t like that.”

His hands settle on my hips, his thumbs brushing over the curve of my upper thigh. He watches the steady, rhythmic movement of his thumbs for a moment, then lifts his gaze to meet mine.

“I killed my mother when I was a child,” he murmurs quietly.

All the air seems to vanish from the room, leaving my lungs as empty as a vacuum. I blink at him, cold racing over my skin. “What?”

“I think that’s why my shadows are so restless,” he says, moving his hands higher to cup my waist, his thumbs resting gently against the bottom of my ribcage. “What Quinton did to her to create me… it destroyed her. It destroyed all of our mothers. Kian’s mother passed away not long after his birth. Malix was four when his mother finally succumbed. But mine…” His gaze slips away from me to roam the edges of the room, as if there are answers in the shadows. “She clung to life too long. She didn’t die, but she was barely living. It ate away at her from the inside, killing her day by day, slowly and painfully. When I was seven, she begged me to end her suffering.”

The tight knot in my stomach loosens just slightly. His words make me horribly sad, but I’m relieved in a way to know that he didn’t kill her out of malice.

He did it out of love.

“If she asked you to end her suffering, then that’s not something you should feel bad about.”

He shrugs. “I do, though. The shadows inside us weigh heavy enough on their own. Adding guilt to that only makes the pain worse. I live with what I did every single day. I believe that’s why my shadows never settle. Because my emotions never do.”

His emotions. So strange, given how hard he is to read at any given time. Even now, talking about what must be the most terrible thing he’s ever gone through, his expression has remained stoic.

On the other hand, I can clearly see the pain in his eyes. It transforms the harsh angles of his face into something softer, more boyish. As if reliving the tragedy of his mother’s death has recalled the boy he was when it happened.

My heart breaks for him. I don’t know what to say or how to tell him he’s going to be okay, especially when I don’t know if that’s true. So I just lean forward, adjusting my position on his hips so that I can reach his lips.

This kiss is different than before. Less heated, more gentle, expressing a different kind of emotion than before when all we wanted to do was devour each other.

It’s not just sexual attraction between us. I could try to pretend that’s all it is for my own sanity. Convince myself he’s just so gorgeous that my libido wanted to take him for a ride. But it isn’t true. I’m not done with him; maybe I’ll never be done with him.

Whatever is between us goes a lot deeper than desire.

With the mate bond broken… I’m terrified of what might be left.

The kiss deepens, and Frost’s hands move over my back, holding me closer as his tongue slides against mine. Heat flushes up my neck, between my legs, and I can feel Frost hardening inside me.

“What the hell is going on?”

A deep voice cracks through the room, splintering the peaceful quiet.

I sit up, startled by the intrusion on our private moment. Whipping my head around, I find Kian and Malix standing just inside the doorway.

Shit. We left the door open, and I didn’t even realize.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I snarl.

“Ever heard of a closing a door?” Malix drawls, an amused glint in his violet gaze.

Kian’s expression is as hard as granite. He takes two more steps into the room, ignoring us both as he turns his glare toward the blond man beneath me. “What the fuck, Frost?”

I glance down at Frost. He’s not even flustered, seeming completely unbothered by the fact that his brothers just walked in on us. He simply stares at the two of them in silence, his hands brushing intimately up my thighs.

Annoyance burns through me at the anger on his brothers’ faces—well, mostly Kian’s face. Kian fucked me before either of the other two did, and then he hid that fact from them like a dirty little secret. And now he has the fucking balls to act pissed about catching Frost and me in bed together?

Fuck that.

I don’t know what compels me to do what I do next. Maybe it’s the anger that rises up in me in response to Kian’s fury. Maybe it’s the heated tension that hangs in the air like steam from a scalding shower. Maybe it’s because I just want to poke at these men, to push them as off balance as they’ve made me.

But whatever the reason, I start to move.

I go slowly at first, staring at Kian and Malix as I begin to ride Frost. He’s fully hard again, and the moment I pick up my rhythm, he groans under his breath and latches onto my hips with strong, calloused fingers.

His hunger spurs me on. I move faster, rolling my hips and grinding my clit against him every time I impale myself fully on his length. Little sparks of pleasure dance through my veins, and I reach down and guide his hands up to my aching breasts.



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