The orgasm ripped through her with a force that made her scream my name, and I felt my knot begin to swell.I should have pulled out.Should have spared her.But the wolf was in control now, and he would not be denied.
The knot expanded at the base of my cock, stretching her impossibly wider.She cried out, her body going rigid, the fresh wave of pressure triggering another orgasm before the first had finished.Her ass clenched around me in rhythmic waves, milking my knot, and the sensation snapped the last of my control.
I came with a roar that shook the headboard, filling her in hot, pulsing spurts while we were locked together.Mine.She was sobbing now, overwhelmed, impaled on my swollen cock with nowhere to go.I held her through it, my fingers still working her clit, dragging out every last tremor until she went limp against my chest.
My fangs had lengthened.I could feel them pressing against my lower lip, aching to sink into the curve of her neck.The claiming spot.One bite and the bond would be complete, and this agony of half-connection would finally end.
I pressed my mouth against her shoulder and did not bite.Held myself back through sheer force of will while my wolf howled in frustration.
We stayed locked together, trembling, breathing each other’s air.The wolf rumbled satisfaction in my chest, contentment reverberating through every cell of my body.But underneath the satisfaction was the ache.Always the ache.The claiming urge that would not let us rest.
After, I didn’t let her collapse into the sheets.
I gathered her against my chest, her skin slick with sweat, her body still trembling from the intensity.Carried her to the bathroom and set her on the edge of the counter while I ran the bath.
“Raphael—”
“Let me.”
The water steamed as it filled the tub.I adjusted the temperature, added jasmine-scented oil, kept it simple.When it was ready, I lifted her again and lowered her slowly into the warmth.
She hissed at the contact, the heat against her sensitized skin.Then she sighed, sinking deeper, letting the water soak into her abused muscles.
I climbed in behind her.Settled her back against my chest, her head resting in the hollow of my shoulder, and reached for the shampoo.
“You don’t have to do this,” she murmured.Her voice was soft, wrung out.
“Yes.I do.”
Because the wolf demanded it.Because she was mine to care for, not just mine to claim.Every mark I had left on her body was a responsibility.A promise that the pain came with care.That I would always bring her back from wherever I had taken her.
I washed her slowly.Her hair first, working the shampoo through the blonde strands, massaging her scalp until she made a small sound of pleasure.Then I worked body wash into her shoulders, her arms, her fingers that had clawed at my thighs.My hands that had wielded the belt now moved over her skin with reverence.
I washed her thighs, her calves, her feet.Every inch of her that I had marked or touched or claimed.
She let me.Didn’t protest, didn’t pull away.Her body was loose and pliant against mine, surrendered beyond the physical.The water lapped gently at the edges of the tub, steam rising around us, and I held her in the silence and let the heat soak into both of us.
The bathroom smelled of steam and soap and her.I breathed it in, memorizing the moment.The trust she had given me.The vulnerability she had shown.
After the bath, I wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the edge of the bed.Retrieved the jar from my nightstand, the healing salve I kept for these moments.
My fingers spread the cool balm over the welts on her backside, her thighs.The places the belt had marked her.She flinched at first, the salve cold against her heated skin, then relaxed into my touch as the cooling sensation sank in.
I traced each welt individually.Memorized the pattern of them, the evidence of what she had asked for and what I had given.The marks would fade by morning, mostly.By tomorrow night, they’d be a memory and a faint tenderness.
But I would remember.I would always remember the trust she had shown me tonight.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said again, quieter now.
“Yes.”I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, tasting clean skin and bath water.“I do.”
I pulled one of my shirts over her head.Guided her under the covers.Wrapped myself around her the same way I had last night, her back to my chest, my arm heavy across her waist, my nose buried in her damp hair.
My wolf purred, the sound vibrating through my chest against her spine.Our mate is here.Our mate let us care for her.Our mate stayed.
She was already breathing slower, her body giving in to exhaustion.Whatever demons had driven her to my door tonight, they’d been burned away in the intensity of what we’d shared.
I held her in the darkness and let myself feel the dangerous hope.
