Page 53 of Shadowed Bond

I kiss her harder because I don’t know what else to do with it. I don’t know how to tell her that she’s ruining me in the best and worst fucking way, that every part of me feels more awake with her, more alive, more dangerous. She whispers my name again, softer this time, and it hits harder than any scream could have. I press my forehead to hers, my hand tightening at her thigh as something pulls between us, hot and relentless, making it impossible to tell where my pleasure ends and hers begins.

“Look at me,” I growl huskily, and when her eyes open, grey and dazed and burning into mine, something in me breaks open. This is not just fucking. I know that now, even if I don’t have the pretty words for it. This is Charlotte letting me see her without the armour, without the sharp smile or polished little walls, and me giving her the same in the only way I know how — with my body over hers, my mouth against hers, and every instinct I have telling her without words that she is mine, and I am already hers.

She holds me tighter, her whimpering becoming louder, and I can feel her walls tightening around me, her body tensing, and I know she’s nearing.

“Ares…” My forehead touches hers as she whispers my name; it sounds almost like a prayer.

The urge to mark her suddenly intensifies, and my gaze dips to her neck. Instead, I kiss her there, refusing to let my wolf get his way as I hold out, waiting for her to reach her climax before I let go of my own.

She’s close, her breathing rapid, her gasps now almost whimpers.

“Come for me, Charlotte…” I whisper huskily.

And she does.

Hard.

Intense.

And fucking beautifully.

And I let go, too, pleasure ripping through me as the pure fucking satisfaction of my climax sizzles through me.

I stroke her hair, and I hold her as she comes down from her high, her entire body trembling from the aftermath of her release.

“I got you,” I say, both of us out of breath, the sound of our panting suddenly loud in the room.

For a moment neither of us moves.

Fuck.

I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to. My body feels heavy, her body is warm beneath mine, and every part of my body tingles where it touches hers.

Annoying fucking thing.

Charlotte’s fingers are still in my hair, her other hand gripping my shoulder, and I can feel the slight tremble still running through her. And it feels good knowing I caused that reaction.

That does something to me.

Something I don’t want to name.

I look down at her, and she gazes back at me, her cheeks flushed, lips parted, hair a mess beneath her head. Not perfect. Not polished. Not Princess Arden with her sharp tongue and too-fancy manners.

Just Charlotte… My girl.

Fuck.

That thought hits hard.

Her hand slides from my hair to the side of my face, and for some reason that feels more dangerous than anything we just did. I tense a little, because I don’t know what she’s about to say, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do if she gets soft on me.

I don’t do soft.

Not well.

“You’re frowning,” she whispers.

“I’m thinking.”