Page 142 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

"My cat knew," I realized.

My cat seemed entirely unrepentant.

“She knew and didn’t tell me,” I muttered.

Jackson brushed hair from my face. “Maybe she thought you weren't ready.”

I thought about all the times I had pushed him away and called it strategy, about the fear that had been sitting underneath every excuse. Maybe my cat had known exactly how that conversation would have gone.

“I spent a long time convincing myself I couldn’t have what they had,” I said. “That whatever part of me was supposed to feel the bond got burned out.”

“But these last few days…” I turned in his arms. “You burning a body for me, taking care of me, looking at my plans instead of running. I think I’m finally catching up.”

His expression softened.

“I’ve known you’re mine since the night in the forest,” he said. “I was willing to wait until you got there.”

I drew a slow breath. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel it exactly the way my mother did. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Jackson searched my eyes for a long moment. “There’s no hurry. We have time. We’ve got the rest of our lives to find out.”

I wanted that. More than I was ready to admit. But wanting a future and getting one were two very different things, especially with a man like Thomas Black standing in the way.

“Thomas won’t accept this,” I said. “He won’t accept me.”

“He doesn’t get a say. Not anymore.”

I touched his face. His eyes closed briefly at the contact, then opened again.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. The mating. The claim. All of it.

“Yes.”

He leaned in and kissed me, deep and slow, then eased me onto my back and rose over me, settling between my thighs with his weight on his forearms. One hand slid into my hair while the other braced beside my head.

My cat surged forward, greedy. A low needy sound tore from my throat.

Jackson chuckled darkly against my lips. “Soon.”

He pushed up onto his knees and stripped my shirt off carefully, then worked my shorts down, lifting my hips with one hand so the bite wound on my leg wasn’t jostled. For a second he just looked at me. The heat in his eyes made my pulse jump. Then he stripped out of his own clothes, tossing them somewhere onto the floor without looking.

The second there was nothing left between us, I reached for him, but he caught my hand and pinned it to the mattress by my head.

“Not yet,” he growled.

He kissed his way down my body, then hooked my good leg over his shoulder and put his mouth on me. There was no teasing. He just devoured me until I was shaking, fist tight in his hair, hips rolling against his face. When I came I bit my own arm to stay quiet.

He eased back while I was still trembling and kissed the inside of my thigh before moving up my body. I pulled him down immediately, wrapping my good arm around his neck. For a second he just held there, forehead against mine, breathing hard.

Then he shifted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against me.

His eyes were dark and wild as he pushed into me in one thick stroke. The stretch was perfect. I groaned at the feeling of him filling me.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, as he started to move, “how long the last few days have been.”

I dragged my nails down his back. “Tell me.”