Beat of Temptation (Psy-Changeling 3.5)

Finally a reaction. “You didn’t think I looked stupid?”

“I wanted to peel you out of those damn come-to-bed jeans”—something he was definitely going to do today—“and mount you right there in the Pack Circle.”

“Nate!”

“I wanted to show everyone that you were mine. I wanted to put my hands on your br**sts and my lips on yours and my co—”

She squeaked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Nate!” The scandalized expression on her face was very Tamsyn. His mate had come back to him.

He pulled away the restraint, using his other hand to manacle her free hand, too. “Where was I? I have wanted you so damn long, my balls are permanently blue. As—”

“I believe you!” A hint of desperation.

“I don’t want any mistakes about this.” And her time was up. The things he wanted to do to her were probably illegal in some countries. Too bad.

He backed her into a wall with slow deliberation, not stopping until her br**sts were crushed warm and tempting against him, her stomach muscles clenching at the granite-hard thrust of his erection. “The sex—hell, yes, I want the sex. I want it so much I could devour you right this second, take little bites out of all those soft, delicate places.”

Her br**sts rose and fell in a jagged rhythm as she watched him through her lashes.

“But baby, I fell in love with you long before the mating heat kicked in this bad. Do you know why I came to wish you happy birthday when you were fifteen?”

She shook her head, mute.

“Because I adored everything about you as much then as I do now,” he whispered, giving her words because she needed them, and because he’d made her cry. There was no excuse for that. “It wasn’t sexual—you were too young. It was just this tightness inside my chest. Every time you smiled, my world lit up. All I wanted to do was keep giving you reasons to smile. The day I realized you were my mate, the happiness almost killed me. So don’t you ever say I don’t love or want you. I chose you, Tamsyn Mahaire. I chose you.”

Tamsyn wanted to burst out crying. “Oh, Nate.” She buried her face against his chest and, when he let go of her hands, wrapped her arms around him as he wrapped his around hers. She had never heard him speak in that impassioned, romantic way, never imagined he would. And to her? To his practical, sensible mate?

“You are not leaving me,” he ordered, his voice predator deep. “If you want to go roaming, I’ll take you. But you are not leaving me.”

She wondered if he expected them to go back to the way things were. If so, he was about to get a surprise. Half of the mess that was their relationship had been her fault. She’d let him think he was the boss. Well, he wasn’t. They were a partnership. Breaking the embrace, she pushed off his jacket. He was so surprised, he let her. Then she began undoing his rough wool-blend shirt.

“Tammy.” He grabbed at her wrist.

“Forget it, Nathan,” she snapped, tearing the shirt down the middle. Buttons went flying every which way. “I’m ready to lose my virginity and you’re going to help me do it. I don’t care if I have to kidnap you and tie you to the bed.”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then she flattened her palms on his wonderful, hard chest and he shuddered instead. The same head-spinning rush hit her, powered by the skin to skin contact. Skin privileges. She had the most intimate kind.

“What about your freedom?” he whispered in her ear over a minute later, bracing his hands palms down on the wall beside her head. He made no move to stop her as she stroked and petted every inch of that sinfully gorgeous chest, all hard muscle and gleaming skin overlaid with silky-rough strands of dark hair.

“Idiot.” She nipped at his jaw with her teeth. “The only freedom I ever wanted was the right to love you.”

One of his hands stroked down to slip under her sweater. It was her turn to tremble.

“You’re a stubborn woman.”

“Yes.” The roughness of his skin felt delicious on her.

“You’re set on making this real.”

“Try and stop me.”

He smiled and it was beautiful and strong and quintessentially male. “What, and give up the chance to finally see your pretty br**sts? Not a chance.”

“Nathan!” And then his hand was squeezing her sensitive flesh and she was drowning in the rush of sensation.

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” he asked before kissing the wits half out of her.

By the time she could gasp in enough air to breathe, her sweater was in shreds on the floor. Nate had used his claws to slice it to bits. His hand returned to massage and mold flesh that had never known a man’s touch. She pushed into the caress. “Um…I forgot,” she whispered. “I was nervous about you—Oh!”

He’d lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. “You were right to be nervous.” He kissed her again, then ran his lips down her neck to nibble on the tender upper slopes of her br**sts.

She held on to his shoulders, trying hard to find a sensible thought. “Nervous?”

“I hope you’ve been exercising.” His mouth closed over her nipple.

It might’ve been hours before she spoke again. “Exercising?” Single words seemed to be all her brain could manage.

He released her sensitive flesh…after gripping it lightly between his teeth for a heart-pounding instant. “Because you’re going to be indulging in a lot of creative physical activity over the next few days.”