With that, he closed the short distance between them and leaned down to claim her mouth with his.
His kiss was fierce, full of the self-directed anger he felt over the fact that he had given her any room to doubt her worth in his eyes. If he had promises to give her, he would have pledged them all right then and there. All he had to offer was the current moment. Until he’d seen his personal mission through to the end and knew with total certainty that Willow’s life was no longer in danger, he couldn’t promise her any kind of future—least of all, with him.
He’d never be worthy of her. He knew that. If he were, he’d have already confronted the lie he continued to let grow between them.
He shoved the damning thought out of his mind as he lost himself in the pleasure of Willow’s mouth on his.
With one hand still clamped around the back of her neck, he slid his free hand up beneath the loose fabric of her bathrobe. Her skin felt impossibly soft under his fingertips, her sweet curves making him fevered with possessive need. Still kissing her, he traced a path from her hip to the silky underside of her breast. She trembled as he caressed her, a soft moan spilling into his mouth from her parted lips.
He plunged his tongue past her straight little teeth, deep into her mouth. The impulse to claim her, to brand her as his, beat like a hammer in his veins. He groaned with the depth of his desire, his fingers rolling the swollen bud of her nipple into an even tighter peak.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he growled against her lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to feel you like this?”
She couldn’t possibly guess how many months he’d imagined her naked in his arms, in his bed. All the hours she’d been haunting his dreams, even when he was awake. All the times he got hard just looking at her beautiful face in his drone footage, craving the one woman he was certain he could never touch because he believed she belonged to another.
Now, Willow was his.
For tonight, at least, she was his.
Untying the robe’s flannel belt, he drew back so he could look at her. His vision was swamped with amber, his pupils no doubt narrowed to thinnest slits in his heightened state of arousal. His fangs throbbed as he drank in the sight of her nudity.
It wasn’t enough just to look. He needed to touch. To taste. To claim.
He pushed the robe off her body, running his greedy hands over every lush inch of her. Willow panted softly as he stroked and kissed her, granting him full access to indulge his fevered exploration. He wanted to go slowly for her, but lust had him on a dangerously thin leash.
A low, animalistic sound rumbled up from the back of his throat as he moved his hand down to the juncture of her thighs. “So fucking beautiful. So wet for me already.”
The little whimper she gave when his fingers delved into her folds nearly undid him on the spot. So did the searing silkiness of her cleft.
Razor was burning up with the need to be inside her.
There were no pretenses about where they were heading tonight. No need to pretend he had the patience to dance around the idea of fucking her. She wanted it too.
On a snarl, he tore off his flannel shirt and the black tee under it. As soon as his chest was bared to her, Willow reached for him. Her touch was feverish and hungered, her gaze meeting his with the same depth of need he felt pounding inside himself.
Their mouths came together once more, tongues clashing, hands grasping at each other.
Willow let out a soft groan as she reached for the zipper of his jeans. “I wish I’d had time for my bath first.”
“Later,” he growled, helping her free him from the rest of his clothing. He ground his molars together so hard when her fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock it was a wonder they didn’t shatter. “Ah, fuck . . . I need to be inside you.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, giving him a saucy grin.
They went down to the mattress together, Razor covering her with his body. He was dying to bury his cock in her, but the urge to feast on her sent his mouth on a slow path from her lips to the creamy swells of her breasts. As tempted as he was to run his tongue along the silky column of her throat, he knew better than to trust his self-control that far.
Instead he savored her dusky nipples and the satiny smooth skin of her abdomen. Her Breedmate mark rode just a couple of inches above her navel. The first time he’d seen it, he’d been pissed as hell. Now, he traced the tiny crescent moon and teardrop symbol with the tip of his tongue, struck once more by just how extraordinary Willow Valcourt truly was.
Not just because she was a Breedmate.
Because of the incredible woman she was.
A woman for whom he would move heaven and earth to protect.
Mine,his blood screamed inside his head.
“Mine,” he growled softly against her skin as he moved lower down her delectable body.
She sucked in a sharp breath as he closed his mouth over her sex, drawing her clit against his tongue. He suckled her, wringing the sweetest sounds from her as she tensed and writhed on the bed. He didn’t let up until she came.
