She obeys without hesitation, rolling onto her stomach. I pull her hips up, positioning her exactly the way instinct demands, the same way tiger-shifters have always claimed their mates. Her back arches, presenting herself to me, and the sight of her like this—vulnerable, trusting, willing—nearly breaks me.
I enter her slowly despite the snarls building in my throat. She's tight, her body resisting at first, and I have to force myself to go slow when every instinct screams to take. To claim. To make her mine in the most primal way possible.
"Kian." My name on her lips is half-plea, half-demand.
I push deeper, feeling her body adjust, accommodate. She's slick and hot, gripping me so tight I can barely think. My hands find her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh hard enough to leave marks—proof of this, proof of us.
She moans, pushing back against me, taking me deeper. "Don't hold back."
The words snap whatever control I have left.
I pull back and drive into her hard. She gasps, her fingers fisting in the sheets, and I do it again. And again. Setting a rhythm that's brutal and relentless, the way my tiger demands.
"Yes," she gasps. "Like that. God, Kian?—"
I lean over her, one hand sliding up her spine to grip the back of her neck, holding her in place. The other stays on her hip, controlling the angle, the depth, making sure she feels every inch of me. Making sure she knows who's claiming her.
Who she belongs to.
The sounds she makes drive me wild—gasps and moans and my name torn from her throat. Her body tightens around me with every thrust, her muscles trembling. I can feel her climbing higher, getting closer to the edge.
"Touch yourself," I growl against her shoulder.
She obeys, one hand leaving the sheets to slide between her legs. The movement changes the angle slightly, and she cries out, her body clenching around me.
I thrust harder, faster, chasing the moment when I can finally claim her completely. Sweat slicks both our bodies. The scent of sex fills the room—salt and musk and something uniquely her. My vision narrows to the curve of her neck, the vulnerable spot where my bite will mark her forever.
Mine. She's going to be mine.
"Kian, I'm—" Her words dissolve into a moan. "I'm going to?—"
"Not yet." I slow my pace, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. Torturing us both. "Not until I bite you. We come together. That's how the claiming works."
She whimpers, her body shaking with the effort of holding back. "Please?—"
"Soon." I bend over her, my teeth grazing the nape of her neck. Not breaking skin yet. Just a promise. "When I bite you, let go. Give me everything."
I pick up the pace again, harder now, deeper. Her body responds, tightening, climbing. I can feel my own release building at the base of my spine, pressure mounting with every thrust.
The demand roars through me—primal, unstoppable.
My teeth find the claiming spot, pressing against soft skin. Catriona gasps, her entire body tensing in anticipation.
"Now," I growl against her neck. "Come for me now."
I bite down.
My fangs sink into her flesh, piercing skin and muscle, and the world explodes.
Silvery mist erupts around us, cold and electric. Thunder cracks overhead—inside the building, impossible but real—and Catriona screams as the transformation begins, her body responding to the claiming.
A connection locks into place between us, primal and permanent. Her fear, her exhilaration, her pleasure crashes through me like a wave, tangling with my own until I can't tell where I end and she begins.
The orgasm hits us both at the same moment.
Her body convulses around me, pulling me deeper, and I empty myself into her with a roar that's more animal than man. The mist swirls faster, thunder rolling through the room, and I can taste copper and magic on my tongue.
When I finally release her neck, blood wells from the bite marks, deep and permanent. The claiming is complete.
