Page 172 of Dominion
I smother a shriek when he spanks my pussy, the wetness making a sticky sound.
“When I tell you clothes off, I need you bare, baby. How else am I going to lick this pussy until you scream?” He hooks his thumbs inside my cheeks and spreads me wide, making me arch and expose my sex.
And then his mouth is on me, his neatly trimmed beard scratching my sensitive skin as his tongue sweeps between my legs. He kneads and roughly squeezes my ass, all the while flicking his tongue over my clit, sucking my labia, nipping me. Every now and then, he delivers another stinging slap to my ass or thigh, mingling pain with pleasure. Danger with excitement.
Only the danger isn’t that he’ll harm me. It’s that he’ll claim me.
But it’s too late for me to stop things or even slow them down. I’m half-crazed for him now, too, moaning and needy, ready to beg for what he wanted to deny me of this morning.
“Colleen.” Mark sounds desperate. His wolf may start to go mad if I keep denying him what it craves. I think he’s going to ask for my consent, to mark me with his teeth, but instead he says, “I need to come inside you this time. Will you let me do that?”
At first my sex-scrambled brain doesn’t even understand the question, but then it dawns on me—he wore a condom last night.
“Yes,” I say, consequences be damned. I need to feel all of him, no barrier between us.
I hear the soft rustle of fabric, and then he shoves inside me. I buck against him, loving the sensation of being filled. Nothing has ever felt so right in my life, but then he pulls out again.
“I need to see your face, babygirl.” He flips me around, propping my ass on the edge of the bed before he shoves in again. I rest back on my elbows, watching the place our bodies connect. His thickness. The way my petals part and stretch to accept him. The scent of my arousal.
Mark’s silver gaze sweeps up my body, and then he frowns. “Why are you wearing that bra?”
I can’t help it. I giggle. Because Mark’s pseudo-anger of the state of my undress makes me feel coveted and gorgeous. “I thought you liked this bra.” I pull the cups of my bra down to show him my peaked nipples. “Your eyes turned silver when I picked it out.”
“Take it off, or I tear it off,” he threatens. “I like it too goddamn much.”
I unsnap it and slide my arms out, tossing it to the side. “Yes, Daddy.”
His grip on my upper thighs turns brutal, but I’m not afraid. I sense the passion behind it, not anger or violence. He slams in hard and fast. “Play with them,” he growls. It takes me a second to understand, and then I moan as I obey, weighing my breasts, squeezing them, pinching my own nipples.
“I’m going to come inside you. I need to mark you in some way, and you’re damn well going to take it.”
I’m thrilled by his demand because his respect for my wishes is still so clearly there. He won’t mark me, even though it’s killing him. I also suspect he’s warning me in case I choose to object.
And I should. But no part of me wants to. Fate sent me this mate, and I’m willing to roll the dice to see if Fate wants to give me a pup with him. Being a mother is the only thing I’ve loved about the last ten years.
I reach down and make a V with my fingers around the place where his cock enters me, wanting to feel him with all of me.
He roars, his movements growing jerky. “Fuck, little wolf. You’re driving me crazy.” He rubs his thumb over my clit and orgasm, my muscles squeezing around his dick. He comes at the same time, and I swear to Fate I feel every hot drop of cum that shoots inside me. It sears me. Sizzles and pops and changes me. So much heat floods through me that my vision turns black with fireworks exploding around the edges. And then pleasure. Oceans of it, washing over me, cleaning me, clearing me, leaving only the purity of my essence and his. Fated mates.
Something makes me touch my shoulder, the place where the skin was knotted with scar tissue from repeated dry bites. Only a true fated mate will cause a male wolf to produce the serum that leaves his scent in his female’s flesh. Dirk wasn’t my fated mate, but that didn’t stop him from savaging my shoulder every time he forced himself on me. After a few years, I just stopped healing. But now my shoulder is as smooth as a baby’s skin. Soft, supple. Reborn.
Mark’s panting, eyes still silver, his canines long. “When I mark you, babygirl, it won’t be there.”
I blink up at him. “No?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’ll mark this cute little ass.” He slides his hands under my butt and squeezes both cheeks in his large hands.
“Oh.” I start to laugh, then. Almost hysterically. It’s relief and joy and nerves bundled into one. “You’re an ass man,” I say.
The brown of Mark’s eyes return, and he grins at me. “You could say that.” He eases out. “I want you in my bed tonight,” he says, somehow correctly guessing that I plan to make a run for it back to the guest room. “I won’t mark you. You can trust me. But I need you here.”
I think about my pups. But they’re deep asleep, exhausted by the fun of the day. They don’t need me.
And the thought of sleeping beside Mark makes my she-wolf…
I spontaneously shift just thinking about her.
It’s the first time in years, and my wolf is so happy, she turns in circles on the bed before flopping to her side and offering her belly up.