Savage (Wolf Ranch 4)

“That’s it, sugar.” I fucked her hard and fast, already past my own breaking point. The bed slammed against the wall, cracking the plaster. Oops. Sorry, Audrey!

She lifted her legs in the air in a wide spread eagle allowing me to pump even harder. Deeper. Faster. I grabbed a knee, held on.

“Becky,” I croaked.

She screamed and reached for my shoulders, her nails digging in. She locked her ankles behind my back and yanked my hips in to stay as her sweet, tight channel gripped my dick in quick pulses. I’d have thought she was even more responsive, more sensitive because of being pregnant, but this was all Becky. Us. We were wild and frenzied together. Always.

I continued to pump, taking her hips with mine as I reached the peak and hurtled over the other side.

“Oh fuck!” I shouted. “Becky, Becky, Becky, Becky.” My release had to be one for the record books. I seriously don’t see how I could’ve come any harder or more. Heat sizzled across my skin.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Clint!” she chanted back, laughing through the whole thing, her sweet pussy continuing to milk my dick for its cum.

I went blind for a minute. Maybe longer. The room sparked with fireworks. I couldn’t breathe, but that wasn’t important because all that mattered was how good she felt.

And then I found myself covering Becky’s body with my own, nuzzling into her neck and whispering nonsense to her, careful of the slight curve.

“Marry me?” I asked because she was human, and that was their custom. Willow and Rob hadn’t had a wedding, but Marina and Audrey had both had weddings to mark the human version of a mating.

She didn’t answer, so I pulled back to look at her face, my heart jumping up to choke my throat. Fuck. Was she still not sure about me? About us?

“Do shifters marry?” she asked. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair damp. She looked well and truly fucked, but a little frown marred her forehead.

I blinked, surprised she’d already picked up enough about our kind to ask the question. I wasn’t sure what she and Mom talked about, but I didn’t really care. Whatever they’d shared had made all the difference. “No, not usually. Well, we do it on paper at the courthouse to satisfy human laws, but it’s not celebrated. The mating is what really matters.”

I ran my thumb over the spot on her neck that indicated we were mated for life.

“Then, that’s all the matters to me, too.” She shook her head. “I’ve been married. I didn’t care for it. If it’s just the same to you, I don’t want it again. I’d rather try it your way.”

I smiled, warmth bleeding back into my body. “Then you’re already mine. I can’t undo what I’ve done, and I wouldn’t. Rebecca Nichols, will you accept my mating bite?” I asked in the formal tones of a wedding officiant.

She smiled, love and warmth radiating from her beautiful blue gaze. “I’ve never been so happy not getting married. Clint Tucker, I will.”

Epilogue

BECKY

“It’s fine. I’m doing fine,” I reassured my mate, whose head looked like it was about to spin around and pop off after my last contraction. “But a little less pressure on the hand.”

“Fuck!” Clint released his overly-tight grip, and I shook my fingers out. “Are you sure you don’t want an epidural? Sugar, you don’t need to be a hero. It’s killing me to see you in pain.”

“It’s not about you, Clint,” Janet informed her son tartly, feeding me a spoonful of crushed ice with apple juice mixed in. “You’re doing great, honey. And of course, Clint’s right--”

“No,” I gasped then stopped to breathe through another contraction. They were coming one right on top of the other now, which meant I was definitely in transition. “Don’t offer again,” I got out when it ebbed.

Clint smacked his head. “I’m sorry. You told me that.”

I tried to sit up. “Help me up. I want to walk around.”

Clint sent a shocked look at Theresa, the labor and delivery nurse on duty. “Is that allowed?”

“Clint,” I growled. I remembered Janet’s talk months ago about how the males needed to think they were in charge, watching out and protecting. Well, I was in fucking charge now.

He scooped me up from the hospital bed into his arms, like his idea of me walking around was him carrying me through the halls of the hospital.

True to his word, he’d carried me around until the day I went into labor. I’d arrived in this hospital in his arms, which was definitely going to become a story I’d never live down with my colleagues.

“Put me down. I need gravity to do its work now,” I said.

He grumbled as he slowly tipped me to my feet as if I were made of glass. I turned to face him and lifted my arms to his shoulders. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged me, my belly so big it was impossible.