“You’re my alpha.” She runs her fingers through my curls. “I want to wear your mark too.”
My canine’s tingle.
“Only if you bite me first,” I decide.
“I can do that.”
“There’s something else too,” I push up onto one elbow, peering down into her stunning, brown eyes. “I know it’s silly, but?—”
“What is it?”
“Whenever I’m drawing, I want to be reminded of you. There’s nothing wrong with a claim mark on your neck, but I want to be able to see your mark without looking in a mirror.”
Sitting up, she takes my wrist and delicately cradles it before brushing her soft lips on my jumping pulse. “How about right here?”
I smile. “I’d love that.”
“Are you sure?
I nod as I tense, waiting for the moment, bracing myself. When her teeth sink into me, I moan. My knot swells, eager to be inside her again. After the bite, I’m captivated by the way she laps at the wound when she’s finished, leaving two cute indentations. A permanent reminder that she accepts me. I’ll never stop looking at it. Even though her bite doesn’t seal our bond, I’m glad that she went first to be sure that this is what she wants.
She holds out her wrist for me. “I want mine to match.”
“Really?”
“I want you, Laz.” She nods. “Exactly as you are.”
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to bite you in a certain way for it to work.”
“Just follow your instincts.” She inches her wrist closer to my mouth. “I trust you.”
Faye was right; my body instinctively knows what to do. I bite down. As my canines pierce her creamy flesh, my knot instantly swells as her calming presence tempers my excited energy, binding us together.
Her perfume blooms. One of the perks of being an alpha is as soon as you come, you need little recovery time. Guiding her back down to the sand, I delicately spread her legs before hovering over her. This is the opposite of my rut-fueled motions. When I enter her again, it’s full of tenderness, promises, and acceptance. Whatever she needs, I’ll be there. When she’s havinga bad day, I’ll be there to make her laugh. I’ll forever make stupid fruit animals to make her giggle at the breakfast table. When she’s feeling insecure, I’ll put her at ease. I know my strengths, and I know how I can make her happy.
“I love you, Faye Nightingale,” I murmur, gently rocking into her body as her thighs wrap around me, drawing us closer.
“I love you too.”
When we come this time, it’s not a feral outpouring. It’s a conscious act. As her hips rock in tandem with mine, I sense her want, her desire, her need for me, and I finally know I’ve found what I’ve been searching for. A woman who loves me for me. A woman I’ll thoroughly and unconditionally love, cherish, and do anything for.
When we come down, I hold her in place, not wanting to let her go. Our scents intertwine—her vanilla honeycomb meeting my spicy cinnamon—creating a smell so heavenly, I wish I could bottle it up to wear as cologne.
Even though this wasn’t how I thought we’d bond, it sums up Faye’s and my relationship. A little chaotic at the beginning yet ending up exactly where we were meant to be. Perfectly imperfect.
The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, illuminating her eyes so I can see tiny flecks of amber in them. And I’d thought she couldn’t be any more beautiful.
“I really hope you signed the lease on this house,” I chuckle. “Otherwise, they could probably sue us for what happened during this viewing.”
“We did.” Her laugh jingles through me like a sparkly windchime. “This is our new home.”
FORTY-FIVE
Ren
The breeze licks my cheeks. On the beach house terrace, I can almost forget that we’re in the middle of a busy college campus. Laz’s laughter echoes from inside as he chases Faye around and demands a tickle fight rematch.
It’s been two weeks since Faye bonded with Laz and Cole and a week since we officially moved in. Cole made sure everything went smoothly; he even got a rush order on a giant bed for Faye’s nest. Already, it feels homier than our pack house ever did.
