You Are Mine (The Lycans 2)

After watching my mother and father, after feeling my own dormant wolf and my own vampire side awakened because of Luca, there was no denying the power of fated mates.

He pressed his lips lightly against mine, and even though I had a lot of priorities right now that didn’t have to do with my desire, I pushed them aside for this one moment and just enjoyed feeling him.

The kiss started off slow, gentle, as if Luca was afraid he’d hurt me. But I wanted his passion. I wanted his ferocity.

I wanted it all.

I lifted my hands and smoothed them along his shoulders, curling my fingers against his shirt. I didn’t care that he was dirty from the fight, that blood covered him.

He’d certainly been able to restrain himself and control his desire, because I wasn’t one hundred percent healed. But here I was wanting to feel every part of him against me. I was this virgin, hybrid Otherworld female who knew little about the world and nothing about sex.

My need for him had been ignited in the forest, then stoked with his kiss, slowly growing until this wildfire was threatening to consume me from the inside out.

He broke the kiss, and murmured, “We have to stop.” He trailed his lips along my jaw to the side of my throat.

“We really don’t,” I moaned and couldn’t find one ounce of embarrassment that I was being so brazen with my arousal.

I could hear him panting, feel the warmth of his respirations coating my flesh. I rested my head against the headboard, my eyes closed, the most glorious sensation moving through me. The position we were in was so not personal, not with him still sitting on the edge of the bed and me propped up and resting against the back. Only our mouths and fingers touched the other.

I wanted more.

I wanted to feel his body fully pressed to mine, wanted to feel every hard ridge and inch of him. And I knew he’d be hard, so hard that it would steal the breath from my lungs.

A small noise escaped me, a moan of pleasure, a broken sound of need. Feeling him kissing my throat, licking at the sensitive underside of my chin, had desire pooling between my thighs. I was wet, uncomfortably so. Unbearably so.

I shifted under the covers a little, my legs moving back and forth, scissoring as I felt heat coil in my belly so tight I knew as soon as it snapped there would be no stopping it.

I curled my nails into his skin, pulling him forward, feeling a spike of lust and something else, something deeper, more potent, take hold of me. I didn’t know what it was, but it was almost strangling, wrapping icy fingers around my throat.

“Kiss me,” I murmured in this delirious haze, and I didn’t wait for him to do it, just slid my hands up his neck to cup either side of his face, his stubble on his cheeks scraping against my palms in the most erotic way. I leaned in at the same time I pulled him close, our lips colliding, crashing together.

I didn’t know what was happening to me, this eroticism racing through my veins like it was in a competition and needed to win.

He groaned, his hands slamming down on either side of me, the mattress dipping from his weight as he leaned forward, bracing his weight. He caged me in, and gods did that turn me on.

I felt so wanton as I arched my back, my breasts so full, my nipples so sensitive. The electricity traveled down my body and settled between my thighs. I felt my muscles clench down there, my body making this rhythmic motion, one that was as old as time itself.

And just as I swiped my tongue along the seam of his mouth, opening for him, delving inside and tangling my tongue with his, he broke away, his eyes blazing and glazed over, his canines descending as he breathed harshly between slightly parted lips.

I felt dizzy in the best of ways, assumed this was what being drunk felt like, although I’d never experienced that.

“Luca,” I murmured and reached out to him again, but he shook his head, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw. The muscles under his scruff-covered cheeks ticked as it was clear he tried to control himself.

I was burning alive, and he was the only one who could put out the fire.

He stood abruptly, the muscles in his back and shoulders bunched, his hands clenching and relaxing at the sides. His nails were claws, his breathing harsh, his body primed for me. I could see the evidence of that tenting his pants, his thickness as wide as my wrist, as long as my forearm. I didn’t even care if he wouldn’t fit, didn’t care if it would hurt as he took my virginity. I wanted it all, and I wanted it with him.