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Her breath hitches as I trace my fingers down her sides, my touch lingering on the swell of her hips. I can't help but grin as I kneel before her, my hands moving over her thighs, her calves, all the way down to her delicate feet. I look up, meeting her gaze, and the raw need in her eyes sends a jolt of desire straight to my core.
"You're so beautiful, Zoe," I murmur, my voice rough with want.
She reaches out, running her fingers through my wet hair. "So are you," she whispers back, her voice shaky.
Zoe's breath hitches as I trace the contours of her body, my hands gliding over the smooth curves. I'm hyper-aware of every inch of her, the slickness of her soap-slicked form pressing against me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both.
My fingers skim lower, tracing the delicate line of her hip before delving into the wet heat between her thighs. The sensation of her, so ready and eager, sends a jolt of desire through me. God, how I've ached to be inside her, to feel her tighten around me, especially after everything we've been through. But her pleasure is my utmost priority, and I cling to control with the thinnest of threads.
She clings to me, her fingers digging into my shoulders, as I explore her with a fevered intensity. Her touch, her scent—everything about her drives me wild. My thumb finds the tightbundle of nerves at her core, and I work it with slow, deliberate circles. Her moans grow louder, her body trembling under my touch, succumbing to the inevitable wave of pleasure building inside her.
I feel her body tense, her breathing ragged as she teeters on the edge. Every whimper from her lips tests my resolve, but I remain steadfast in my purpose. With a final, expert flick of my fingers, I send her spiraling over the edge. Her orgasm crashes over her, her inner walls pulsating around my fingers, her cries of ecstasy echoing off the tiled walls.
Then Zoe's hands begin to roam over my body, her touch setting me aflame. She reaches between us, wrapping her fingers around my length, stroking me with a confidence that nearly undoes me. I groan into her mouth, the sensation almost too much to bear.
"Zoe. Fuck," I gasp, pulling back to catch my breath. "I need to be inside you."
Her answer is a nod, her eyes filled with the same desperate need that courses through my veins. I spin us around, pressing her against the cool tile wall of the shower. She wraps one leg around my waist, opening herself to me, and I can't resist the invitation.
I slip a finger inside her, then another, my thumb finding the bundle of nerves that makes her tremble. Her head falls back, her hips moving in time with my hand. "Marcus, please," she begs, her voice a sultry plea that I can't ignore.
I position myself at her entrance, my body shaking with the effort of holding back. "Look at me, Zoe," I command gently. Her eyes flutter open, locking onto mine as I slowly push inside her.
The feeling of her tightening around me is exquisite, and I pause, giving her a moment to adjust to my size. "Are you okay?" I ask, my voice strained with the effort of restraint.
She nods, her eyes shining with love and desire. "I've never been better," she assures me, her voice firm.
I start to move, my hips finding a rhythm that is both new and innately familiar. Each thrust is a slow, deliberate invasion, a claiming that goes beyond the physical. I watch her face, her eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting as she breathes out a soft moan that seems to echo the beat of my own heart. Her body welcomes me, tight and hot, a perfect sheath that seems to draw me in deeper with every stroke.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her nails scraping against my skin, marking me in a way that feels both possessive and exhilarating. I can hear the hitch in her breath, the little gasps that tell me she's close, so close. And I want to take her there, to push her over the edge and watch her shatter beneath me.
I adjust my angle, just slightly, and the change elicits a sharp cry from her. It's a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, and it spurs me on. I thrust again, harder this time, and the sensation is exquisite, almost too much to bear. But I don't want it to end, not yet.
"I want to claim you, Zoe," I manage to say between clenched teeth. "I want everyone to know you're mine."
"Yes, Marcus," she cries out, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Claim me. Make me yours."
My wolf surges forward at her words, and I feel my canines lengthen. I thrust into her harder, faster, chasing our shared release. I can feel her walls fluttering around me, and I know she's close.
"Come for me, Zoe," I growl, and she does, her body convulsing around mine as her orgasm crashes over her. The feeling of her climax triggers my own, and with a final, powerful thrust, I let go.
As we ride the waves of our pleasure, I lean forward, sinking my teeth into the tender skin where her neck meets her shoulder. The taste of her blood, the feel of her body, the knowledge that she is truly mine—it's all too much, and I come undone, my orgasm hitting me with the force of a freight train.
We stay like that for a long moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling with the steam swirling around us. slowly, I retract my teeth, licking the wound closed. Zoe looks up at me, her eyes soft with satisfaction.
"I love you, Marcus," she murmurs, her voice filled with wonder and contentment.
I smile, brushing a damp lock of hair away from her face. "I love you too, Zoe. More than anything."
And in that moment, with the water still pouring down on us and Zoe's scent mingling with mine, I know that we've crossed a threshold from which there is no return. She is my mate, now and forever, and nothing will ever come between us again.
Epilogue
Zoe
I stand in the middle of what used to be Marcus's living room, now our living room, surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes. The scent of newness mingles with the familiar woody aroma of Marcus's home, creating a heady mixture that makes my head spin with the reality of this change.
Chloe emerges from the kitchen, her arms laden with empty boxes. "I think that's the last of the kitchen stuff," she says, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "Who knew you had so many quirky mugs?"
