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“You like it?” I ask, equal parts hope and anxiety twisting in my gut. This is something I’ve never done before—my relationship with Sam was more secret stolen moments hidden behind a casual friendship veneer—but I promised to woo Callie the night she fully claimed me as hers, and I wanted to honor that tonight.
“I love it.” She beams, turning around to face me, my hands sliding to the base of her spine. Pressing up on the tips of her toes, she wraps her arms around my neck and places a kiss on the underside of my jaw. “It’s perfect.”
Bending forward, I capture her lips, unable to resist my desire to taste her. There’s a constant want for her within me, a simmering need to touch her, that can sometimes be overwhelming. Most of the time, it can be soothed by being close to her, breathing in her scent of pomegranates, white orchids, and the wild storms of her magic. Then there are times like now, where it burns in my blood, and my wolf howls in my ears to claim our mate—times when I catch the scent of the others on her skin. It’s not a wounded feeling, not one of jealousy or betrayal, more of an urge to replace their lingering marks. It’s the territorial side of me that insists she is mine to protect, cherish, honor, and submit to.
Mine, my wolf growls, fueling this growing fire, and I deepen the kiss, my tongue diving into her mouth to dance with hers. A low moan pours from her as her fingers twist into my loose, brown curls. She tastes of warm water and citrus, a newer flavor since coming under the care of Nolan’s grandmother—another sense I wish to overpower with my own. I want to provide completely for my mate, even down to the foods that flavor her tongue.
Remembering the food tucked away in the basket, I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, and walk over to the blanket. Her kisses trail from my jaw to my neck, nipping and sucking on my skin in ways that are sure to leave marks of their own. The wave of possessiveness that flows from her into me pleases my wolf, a call and answer to my own. Sitting cross-legged, I settle her more comfortably on my lap and intentionally ignore the way her skirt rides up, tantalizing me with more of her golden skin. Before we play, I must care for my mate.
Gathering her loose hair into my fist, I give it a gentle tug to gain her attention. She pulls back far enough to look into my eyes, slivers of silver surrounding her wide pupils, and there’s a heat so raw within their depths that I nearly lose all reason, my want to submit to her every desire palpable. Our bond has always been extraordinary by the very nature of what mi reina is, but since that horrific night I used our connection to pull her spirit back into her body, it’s been beyond the flow of emotions. It’s as if a crucial part of my being now resides within her, and only through her nearness do I feel whole.
“Hungry?” I ask, the word coming out as a throaty growl instead of a proper question.
Her gaze burns even brighter, and my body throbs as I watch her slowly lick her lips. “I could eat.”
Unable to look away, I release her hair and blindly reach for a container within the basket, pulling out a Tupperware full of chocolate-covered strawberries—not exactly the sustenance I had planned.
“Dessert first. Sounds good to me,” she comments with a subtle purr in her voice, and the insinuation she’s not just talking about the strawberries is not lost on me.
Like the night our bond was first formed, I take the offered food and present it to her to eat from my fingers. The exchange fulfills my instinct to provide, but the way she looks at me as she takes a bite, the juices painting her lips, stokes a far more basic urge. She chews slowly, savoring the flavor on her tongue, before swallowing. I’m transfixed by her mouth, tracking the way she licks her lips again, and a knowing smile blooms across her face.
“Your turn,” she states, taking one of the strawberries and holding it to my lips. Before I can consider objecting, it’s as if she steals the thoughts from my mind and turns them against me. “It’s a mate’s right to provide.”
We are equals in all things, her expression insists, and a powerful pulse of both possessiveness and tenderness wrapped in pure love shoots from her into me. Over and over again, she claims me in the same ways I wish to claim her. I am hers to protect, cherish, honor, and submit to. Another shattered part of me is mended, her light dispelling more of the darkness.
I take the offered treat into my mouth, biting, chewing, and swallowing at the same savoring speed. This continues until there is no more, trading back and forth as we provide for the other. Callie seals the Tupperware, the container filled with the discarded greenery of strawberries, and places it to the side. Our fingers are sticky from the chocolate and sweet juices, and solely because I want to, I steal her hand and begin to suck them clean.
A breathless, “Oh,” escapes her as she watches, that building heat burning through our bond. Her pleasure and desire excite my wolf—the scent of her a beckoning call. I fight the instinct to cover her with my scent and focus solely on her slender, delicate fingers, careful not to graze them with my teeth.
Insistent in all things equal, she waits until I’m finished before doing the same to me, and a low groan rumbles within my chest as the wetness of her mouth surrounds my finger. She is not as careful, rolling her tongue around the digit and then letting her teeth scrape along my skin as she pulls it out to move onto the next one. The additional stimulation brings my wolf closer to the surface, my want of her a living thing begging to be released. By the time she’s done, I’m left panting and painfully hard.
“Mine,” she states teasingly, nipping the tip of my finger before releasing me.
“Yours,” I reply seriously, my hands digging into the soft flesh of her hips. My nose brushes against hers. “Always yours.”
“Mi lobo,” she murmurs like a prayer, her touch reverent as she cups my face. First, she presses her lips to my forehead, then to each cheek, and finally, like the brush of a feather, against my mouth. “I love you.”
“Te amo, mi reina,” I whisper, the words painfully precious because they are an offering of my battered heart. Words reserved only for her.
She kisses me again, slowly, thoroughly, and with the confidence of knowing exactly how she affects me. It’s a kiss that robs the air from my lungs and makes everything outside of her disappear. She is the center of my universe, and I feel dizzy as I orbit around her.
I groan when she unbuttons part of my flannel, just enough for her cool fingers to reach my feverish flesh. Her hands roam underneath my shirt, tracing the planes of my chest, over my shoulders, and then digging into my upper back, pulling me more securely against her. Suddenly, it feels like any amount of space is too much space between us. I wrap my arms around her, holding her like we can fuse our bodies together. She gasps into my mouth, but there’s no sign that it’s too much. Instead, she tightens her legs, her thighs squeezing me while the heels of her boots dig into the base of my spine.
Our kisses grow more frenzied, a play of teeth and tongues as we trade between domination and submission. Similar to the way my wolf presses beneath my skin because of my heightened emotions, Callie’s magic is drawn to us. It skates along my skin, a scorching heat that sets my nerve endings ablaze. It’s not painful as it seeps into me, but it does cause every part of me to feel more sensitive, the clothes on my body becoming overstimulating.
Breaking our kiss, I gulp for air and pant, “Need… a… minute.”
She blinks the dragging weight of lust from her eyes and nods. “Okay.”
My wolf howls when I have the audacity to maneuver her off my lap, offended that I would take my hands off my mate until she’s fully satisfied, but if I don’t do something, I’ll either embarrass myself or my self-control will slip the leash. Focusing solely on cooling off, I strip down and dive into the deeper side of the pond. It’s exactly what I need, the cold water providing a relieving contrast to my overheated flesh. Returning to the surface, I push my hair out of my eyes and swim to the edge. Callie has a dazed expression, and I wonder if maybe I wasn’t the only one that needed a moment.
“Are you okay?” I ask, resting my crossed forearms on one of the flat rocks.
“Yup, mm-hmm,” she chirps, adjusting herself so her legs are bent to the side, and she’s leaning on one hand. Her gaze darts to my face and then to the forest at large.
I search the bond and don’t find anything too alarming—a hint of nervousness, some curiosity, and the continued burn of arousal that is a siren’s call to my own. All the more reason I need to stay in the water.
She tugs at the cowled neck of her sweater, the air unseasonably warm and muggy with magic that tickles my nose. I sneeze. She laughs and shakes her head. It seems to unravel the nervousness within her, and she asks with humor, “Are you allergic to all magic or just mine?”
