“I was so scared,” I admitted. “When I shifted. When I realized I wasn’t human. It felt... everything I knew about myself was a lie.”
He nodded, thumb brushing my cheek.
“And I needed someone to blame. You were the easiest target.”
“I figured.”
“You shouldn’t forgive me this easily.”
“Probably not.” He cupped my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. “But I’m weak when it comes to you. Always have been. Always will be.”
That should probably concern me. It didn’t. It just made me want to kiss him.
So I did.
It was soft at first, tentative, reconnecting after days of distance. His lips were warm and familiar and felt right. Exactly right.
Then it wasn’t soft at all.
His hand slid into my hair, tilting my head back. The kiss deepened, turned hungry. Two days of separation had built up a tension that was finally breaking, and neither of us wanted to be gentle anymore.
“I need you,” I gasped against his mouth.
“You have me.” He rolled us so I was beneath him, his body covering mine. “You’ve always had me.”
This time was different from before. Not frantic, not desperate, but slow and tender. We had all the time in the world and he wanted to savor every second.
He undressed me with reverent hands, peeling away my t-shirt, my underwear, dropping kisses across my skin as each inch was revealed. His mouth traced a path from my collarbone to my stomach, leaving heat in its wake. By the time I was naked, I was trembling from the intensity of his attention.
“Beautiful,” he murmured against my collarbone. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
He worked his way down my body. Kissed my neck, my shoulder, the curve of my breast. His tongue circled my nipple, and I arched into him, gasping. Then he bit, gently, just a graze of teeth, and the gasp became a moan.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No. More.”
He obliged, leaving little nips along my ribs, my hip, my inner thigh. Each one sent sparks through my nervous system, building a fire that threatened to consume me. He was marking me. Claiming me all over again. And I loved every second of it.
“Caelan...”
“I want to mark you everywhere,” he said against my skin. “Want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“They already know.”
“Then I want you to know.” He bit my hip, harder this time, and I moaned. “Want you to feel me for days.”
His mouth moved lower. Kissed my inner thigh. Then higher, and higher, until his tongue found my wet pussy and I nearly came off the bed.
“Fuck... Caelan...”
“That’s it,” he murmured against me. “Let me hear you.”
He worked me with his mouth, his tongue plunging inside my entrance, lapping at my juices and then flicking my clit, sucking it until I was shaking, begging, until the pleasure built to a peak that crashed over me in waves. I came with his name on my lips, fingers tangled in his hair.
