“Sit.”
I obeyed at once. He rose smoothly to his feet, circling me as he drew in a slow breath, scenting the air like a bloodhound.
“Mmm,” he murmured, dragging the sound out, rich with satisfaction.“This is what my mate should smell like. Belly full of our pup… and leaking sweet honey for her mate’s knot.”
The words hit me like sparks to dry tinder.
My mouth went dry, my pulse thudding as my heart raced.
“Lie down and open your legs for me. I need a taste of that sweet, sweet honey,” he said, lifting my skirt to bare me.
I fell back, bouncing on the soft bed—a far cry from the stiff pallet I had once slept on. I parted my thighs for him, watching as he moved between them. His warm hand slipped beneath my dress to rest over our child.
“So well behaved,” he murmured softly.“Unlike this morning.”
Before I could muster a defence, he was already moving—crouching, firm hands dragging me to the edge of the bed.
“Time to pay, little wolf,” he said, his fingers pressing into my legs as his tongue traced a slow path along my inner thigh.
This did not seem like a terrible punishment for my supposed offence.
I was wrong.
So very wrong.
Thaddeus
She was not happy—nor was Madadh, judging by the low growls vibrating in her chest. The curses, the pleas, even her attempt to rip my hair free did nothing to slow me.
I shifted position, pressing a line of kisses along her thigh until her taste lingered on my lips once more.
Wulfric, to my surprise, was quietly amused.
I waited for the bond to pulse—for her cries to rise and sharpen—before giving her my mouth. I pried her open with a flick of my tongue, traced the sodden flesh, then drove it home. A guttural moan tore from her, echoing around the room, her essence coating my tongue as I feasted until she rocked her hips and held me fast.
Flashes of our first heat surged back—of sealing her with our knot, of claiming succession.
Our mate was made for us alone.
“Ooh, Thaddeus—enough,” she gasped, thrusting her hips to press herself against my mouth.
I lifted my gaze past the dark green spill of her skirt. Her hair had slipped free of its pins, damp strands of hair clinging to flushed cheeks, her lips parted and trembling.
“Do you want me to stop?” I asked softly, threading my fingers through her soaked red curls.
“Yes!” she cried—then, breathless and frantic when I withdrew my hand.“No!”
“You seem confused, my love.”
I pressed a kiss against her glistening cunt, a dark chuckle leaving me.
I rose slowly, taking my time as I stretched, then turned my attention to my buttons. She had no idea how swollen my knot had become.
Not yet.
“On your belly, my sweet,” I said calmly.“Keep your feet on the floor.”
I watched as she rolled onto her front, fingers clutching the covers while she carefully set her legs in place—every movement betraying just how much she wanted what I was still denying her.
