Page 46 of Alpha's Claim

“Yes. This is what I want.”

“You like it when I fill you up? When I stretch your sweet virgin flesh to take me?”

I smile like a satisfied cat as he makes the bed shake with his thrusts. “Not a virgin anymore,” I brag.

Because I’m damn proud of taking control of my sex life. Of asking for and getting what I need. Of ruining all of Thom’s plans for me.

“No, you’re not, are you?” Darius braces one hand beside my head, using the other to keep my head from hitting the headboard. “You’re mine now,” he declares.

The rebel in me wants to deny it. I may like to pretend I’m the fair maiden captured by the Viking, but in real life, I belong to no one. Never again will a man hold me against my will.

Except Darius isn’t holding me against his will. I want to be here, underneath him. I want to be the one drivinghim and his bear mad. I want him to claim me as his. Even to mark me with his scent, so all other shifters know.

I want to claim Darius Medvedev right back.

“You’re mine now,” I say back to him.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he thrusts with intention. Like he’s staking his claim on my pussy. On my womb. “That’s right, little dove. I’m yours. You want this cock, you demand it. Morning, noon, or night–it’s yours.”

It feels so good that my eyes are rolling back in my head. I want nothing more than to be filled by this beautiful man-bear. Except, then it’s not enough. I need more. Faster.

“Please,” I start to chant. “Please…now. I need it.”

“You need to come, sweetheart?” Darius’ voice is rough.

“Yes. Together.”

“You want us to come together?”

I want it. I may be inexperienced with sex, but romance novels have been my only form of entertainment for the past ten years. I’m programmed to believe in that holy grail of completion–the simultaneous orgasm where fireworks go off and volcanos erupt.

I want to reach the apex with Darius. I want us to be in this together. Because I suddenly have the sense that it’s the only way we will succeed against Thom. Love is the oldest magic.

Thom separated me from Wren to keep us from using it against him, but he didn’t count on Darius. The man whose bear knew we belonged together.

And I have the sense that together, we’ll be unstoppable.

“Fuck,” Darius mutters. “I’m losing control.”

“No biting,” I remind him, gasping at the force he’s pounding me with. “Now, Darius! Please!”

Darius’ face contorts. His beard seems to grow beforemy eyes. He gives a shout and then bucks into me, the bed slamming against the wall so loudly, I suspect all seven of his brothers will hear it.

“Yes!” I shriek. “Yes!” I catapult off the edge, tumbling and spinning into oblivion.

There aren’t fireworks. It’s an avalanche. A cascade of pleasure that turns me inside out. And also a volcano–that’s Darius, erupting and spewing his hot seed into me. So hot and copious, I swear I feel it hitting the back wall of my channel.

Afterward, it’s the eye of a hurricane. The whipping winds of a storm all around us, but we’re in the center, floating.

Cocooned in the still point of togetherness.

Darius

“Paloma,” I croak, as reality seeps back in, and I realize what I’ve done.

I didn’t bite her. At least, I don’t think I did.

But I was out of control.