“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably confused,” the Viking said, his expression apologetic and concerned. “You’re safe, though. We just need to explain and help you.”
“Help me?” I choked out. “Help me with what?”
Before he could answer, the bear’s voice reappeared inside my head:Mates! Mates! Mates!
The inner growl locked my gaze on the two men in front of me, dragging my attention down their bare chests to their straining erections. I tried to look away—desperately—but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t obey.
Mates! Mates!
The word snarled in my head, feral and commanding, as my hand moved on its own. Sliding down. Lower. Between my legs.
I wasn’t just touching. I was gathering. Gathering slick, undeniable proof of my body’s sudden eruption of arousal.What am I doing? No… No!
Something primal—something I didn’t understand—had taken over. I was a passenger in my own body, forced to watch as my trembling hand lifted and smeared the arousal I’d gathered…
Across the biker’s face.
“No!” The cry ripped from my throat, raw and broken, as I watched myself do the unthinkable. “Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Shame ripping through my chest and curdling my stomach, I tried to yank my hand away, but the biker caught my wrist, his grip firm and unyielding.
“Mmm, yes, baby, mark me,” he growled, his voice rough, gravelly, and dripping with satisfaction.
He drew my fingers into his mouth, sucking hard. A shockwave rippled through me. My body clenched in places I didn’t know could clench, and the ache inside me deepened.
“What’s… what’s wrong with me?” I whispered, unable to stop watching him.
He released my fingers with a lewd pop. “Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re perfect, baby.”
He pressed my hand to his cheek, nuzzling it as if I hadn’t just smeared my need on him.
“But you’re also in estrus,” he added—as if it was just an afterthought.
“Estrus?” I rasped. My nurse brain struggled to translate the unexpected bit of Latin. “Do you mean… like a dog goes into heat?”
“You’re definitely not a dog,” he said with a lazy grin. “Or a wolf. But yeah.”
“You’re confusing her,” the Viking said sharply, shooting him a glare before turning to me. “Let me explain?—”
A sharp pain knifed through my stomach, and I doubled over with a cry.
This wasn’t period pain. Period pain didn’t come with feverish heat or waves of slickness. I was pulsing, trembling, so wet I could feel it coating my thighs.
Mates!
“Look at her,” the Viking groaned. “She smells so good, but we can’t mate her. Not until we?—”
The voice won.
I tackled him, knocking him flat onto his back. And this time, it was me growling out loud, “Mate!”
9/
mate! mate! mate!
holly
Ididn’t mean to lunge at him. I swear I didn’t.
