His hands fumbled with the button of her jeans. She lifted her hips, desperate to help, and he shoved the denim down, dragging her panties with them. He stripped her efficiently, tossing the clothes aside until she was bare, pale and glowing against the dark sheets.
He grabbed her knees and pulled her down the bed, spreading her wide.
"God, you smell so fucking good." He pressed his face into the soft skin of her stomach, inhaling the scent that had haunted his dreams for weeks. "Like cinnamon and vanilla and want. You have no idea what that does to me."
"Show me," she demanded.
He smiled against her skin, a predatory baring of teeth.
He slid down, settling between her thighs. Hooking her legs over his shoulders, he locked her in place. The view destroyed him. She was wet and glistening, flushed for him. Perfect.
"Lex, you don't have to—oh God."
He licked her right through her center with the flat of his tongue, a long, claiming stroke that made her nearly come off the bed. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding her steady as he proceeded to take her apart.
It wasn't gentle. He couldn't be gentle, not now. He feasted on her, drinking down her cries, his tongue relentless. She tasted like sugar and musk, addictive and potent. She writhed against him, her heels digging into his back, her hands gripping the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
"Lex! Lex, please!"
He didn't stop. He pushed her higher, relentlessly, using his tongue and mouth to drive her to the edge. When she finally shattered, screaming his name, he drank every drop of her pleasure, feeling her tremors vibrate through his own jaw.
He worked her through the aftershocks, gentling his touch only slightly, before he dragged his body back up hers. He shed his jeans and boxers in a chaotic frenzy, kicking them away.
When he settled back between her legs, her eyes went wide, dropping to his erection.
"Lex..."
"I won't hurt you," he swore. He wanted to slam into her. He wanted to bury himself so deep he’d touch her soul. But the human part of him, the part that loved her more than breath, forced the wolf to heel. "Tell me if it's too much."
"It won't be." She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I trust you."
He pushed inside.
The friction was exquisite agony. She was tight, so incredibly tight, stretching around him, accommodating him. He gritted his teeth, veins standing out on his neck as he forced himself to move inch by agonizing inch. He watched her face, searching for pain, but all he saw was a hazy, drugged wonder.
"Okay?" he ground out, sweat beading on his forehead.
"More than okay." She rolled her hips, taking the last of him. A gasp tore from her throat, followed by a moan that snapped his last tether. "Please, Lex. Move."
He withdrew almost all the way, then thrust back in. The groan that ripped out of him was animalistic. It felt like coming home. It felt like dying and being born again.
He set a rhythm that was punishing and possessive. He drove into her, again and again, claiming her body with his, marking her inside and out. She met him, thrust for thrust, her nails raking down his back, scoring his skin. The sting only fueled the fire.
"Mine," he growled against her throat, the word distorted by his fangs lengthening, his wolf clawing at the surface. "You're mine, Jules."
"Yours," she sobbed, tossing her head back. "Always. Lex, please, I'm close, I'm?—"
Her tightening around him was the trigger. He felt her climbing toward another peak, and his control evaporated. He shifted his angle, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream, driving them both toward the precipice.
"Let go," he ordered. "Give it to me."
She came hard, her body clamping down on him, milking him. The sensation dragged him over the edge.
In that final moment of release, as his seed poured into her, his wolf lunged. He didn't think; he simply reacted. His hand tangled in her hair, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat. His teeth found the junction of her neck and shoulder. The spot that pulsated with her life, the spot that had been calling to him since the moment they met.
He bit down.
It wasn't a nip. It was a claim. His teeth sank in, breaking skin, tasting copper.
