Love at First Mate - Badlands Territory

“You likey?” I tease, biting my lip, but Ragnar is serious, marching in front of me and crouching down.

“Look. I never wanted to find my mate. But we don’t always get what we want. So, here’s the deal. You’re mine. I’ve marked you, fucked you, filled your belly with my cum, killed for you…”

“Made me waffles, fixed my water heater…” I add, but he only squints an eye and my attempts at humor are falling flat.

“You’re going to marry me, Wynter. I love you.” His hands come up, one holding a red leather box while the other one flips it open. At first, the box looks so tiny in his huge hands, but when I see what’s inside…

It’s huge.

“Jesus.” It’s all I can think to say as I stare at the dime-sized diamond solitaire, with a triangle of smaller diamonds on each side. “I’m going to need a security team with me at all times if I’m walking around with that monster on my finger.”

“You have one already. I’m your security team,” he grunts.

“True.” I nod, crinkling up my nose on a smile. “Okay, so are you asking me to marry you then?”

He shakes his head and I twist my lips, arching a brow his way.

“So, you’re not asking me to marry you.”

“No. I’m telling you, you are marrying me. Telling. Not asking.”

“Oh.” I look up at the ceiling and shrug. “Okay. Put a ring on it then, Daddy!”

His eyes snap wide.

“What did you call me?”

“Uh, it just sort of slipped out. Daddy? Daddybear?” I purse my lips, blinking twice, waiting to see if I just ruined the moment.

A rumble comes from his chest as he takes the ring out and shoves it on my finger, then he reaches up and tears the t-shirt I’m wearing down the middle.

When I look at his hands, his fingernails are pointed, half-claws already, and I see the change in his eyes. His shoulders broaden and his jaw starts to crack before he gets his grizzly under control and stands up, freeing himself from his jeans, letting his erection stand tall.

And what an erection it is. Magnificent, with those thick, winding, bluish veins, and a head that still makes me wince every time he pushes it inside me.

He brings a hand down on top of my head, arching my neck back just a little as his voice booms down from above, like a God intoning a commandment to a disciple.

“Mouth. Cock. Now.”

He stands in front of where I’m sitting, pulling me forward and guiding the tip of his gigantic hard-on to my lips.

He stuffs it down into my throat, taking my breath away, but when I look up and see him gazing down at me with such lust and intensity, I’m immediately soaking wet.

I suck and lick until my eyes are watering and Ragnar gets that special look on his face that tells me he’s close.

It’s a look somewhere between homicidal rage and uncontrolled lust, with a little love as the cherry on top.

And on the topic of cherries, I couldn’t be happier that I saved mine for him.

And he saved his for me.

Pop, pop.

Some things are just meant to be.Chapter 13RagnarEleven months laterI’m the happiest, angriest man in the world as I watch the nurse wheel Wynter off the elevator, heading toward the glass doors at the front of the hospital where I’ve parked the brand new Suburban I picked up from the dealer this morning.

In each hand, I’m carrying an infant car seat, and anyone that even looks toward my mate and my babies is getting a curled-lip growl from me.

Wynter looks more beautiful than ever before, if that’s possible. Every day I’m with her, she’s more perfect. But today, she’s radiant. Her warm brown hair is twirled up in a messy bun, her tits—which were incredible before—are gigantic and making my mouth water, knowing they are full of sweet milk.

She was stunning as her body changed and the babies grew inside her. She was physically uncomfortable toward the end, and I did everything I could to make her feel better or just distract her.

Orgasms did both, which I was only more than happy to provide.

I’m dead-eyeing everyone as we walk, and inside me my grizzly is egging me on, which is not helping.

“Hey…” Wynter reaches out and grazes her fingertips down my forearm. “Relax, they aren’t here to eat your cubs.”

“They might be,” I grumble back, listening to my inner bear roar, backing me up.

It’s been almost a year since I saw my mate for the first time, and my life is about as perfect as it can be.

The twins were born two days ago. Wynter gave birth like a mamma bear, swearing and cussing me out for damn near ten hours, but I’ll take all that and more for our family.