Page 86 of Wolfsbane

My whole body shivered with the pleasure of him riding me, combined with such a complete show of . . . of forever? Of the fact that he wanted as much as I did.

Again, the wolf started up in my head, demanding I bite him.

Instead, I grabbed his hips and pulled him down onto me as his whole body fell into the motion, giving over and letting me set the pace, even though he was the one on top.

His tight heat was addictive, and somehow, even if he did want to leave the pack, I didn’t think I could stay behind without him. Yes, they were my family, but he was my person. My whole future.

His eyes flashed open, and I could see the wolf in them, and then, confusion. “Why do I really want to bite you all of a sudden?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “He’s impatient. Like a child. I told him not yet, so he went and asked you.”

He leaned down against me, kissing each cheek, then my lips, and then pulled back enough to look at me properly. “The wolf wants . . . biting? Is this some kind of wolf kink?”

I sighed, and rolled over so I was atop him, and started slowly pumping into him again, my body too impatient to put sex on hold for a conversation. “Not some kind of wolf kink. Some kind of wolf marriage. Mating marks. You’ve seen Aleks’s neck. The bite there.”

Daire’s eyes went wide. “I figured that was from a fight. It was . . . on purpose?”

“Mating,” I agreed. “A permanent symbol of belonging to each other. They don’t heal completely because they are accepted.”

His lips fell slack, and his eyes went hazy, and for a moment, he seemed to lose focus on the conversation, pushing up into every stroke of my cock. Then he blinked up at me and said, “Then do it. I—I mean, if you want to, and not just⁠—”

Without another thought, I was leaning down, pressing my teeth into his neck. Like an untried teen. Even worse, when my fangs broke his skin, my whole body erupted in orgasm, tensing above him as I spent.

I had to force myself to let go of the bite and pull back, only to find Daire looking drugged, a blissful half-smile on his face, and between us, a pool of his own come. He’d come from the bite too.

Fuck. We were going to have to try that again, the other way.

CHAPTER 48

Daire

I was emptied out and made anew. It was like the tether we’d had after the ritual, but better. Viktor’s satisfaction radiated down our bond, and I’d never felt anything better.

For the rest of my life, I wanted to make sure he knew he was exactly what I wanted. Whatever I’d imagined before I met him, some charmer who was flawlessly romantic, that wasn’t . . .

Mate, the wolf supplied.

He was right. My mate was honest and steady, and if he wasn’t flawlessly charming, that only meant that when he took time to show he cared, it was because he wanted to. He was thinking about what I wanted, not just playing games with my heart.

I didn’t just want the show of love. I wanted the real thing—a person who’d carry me when I struggled, who’d stand by me when I was scared, who’d let me do the same when I could. I was never going to be as badass as he was, and without his wolf, the chances of me hefting a giant log over my shoulder were basically zero, but there was a lot we could do together.

Viktor nuzzled into my neck, the bridge of his nose pressing beneath my jaw. The sound he made was a soft, contented rumble, not totally unlike a cat’s purr. I laughed, combing my fingers through his hair and pulling him down on me. His weight wasn’t going to crush me or anything, and I wanted to feel him there.

I wrapped around him like a spider monkey, arms around his back and legs looped over his hips. We kissed, and my smile made it more awkward, but I couldn’t help it.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” I panted. “Nothing about you, nothing we’ve been through, definitely not this.” My fingers traced the mark on my neck. The wolf had healed it already, but the skin was raised.

He wanted me enough to make me his. I loved him enough that it stayed.

And yeah, Daire Novikov was a heck of a lot better than Daire Schwarz. My father’s surname was Kelly, but he was out of the picture from the start. Stuck to the road. It was one of the reasons Mother had picked him—he had no presence in the coven, so his preferences had no bearing on how I was raised. I’d met him a few times, and I’d never thought he’d particularly liked any of us. He liked a story and a drink and a good time, but if I wanted to take someone else’s name, I wanted it to mean something.

Viktor meant everything.

He stared down at me with a furrowed brow. “But if there’s something you want or need, you’ll tell me?”

I nodded. “If you’ll do the same. It’s not all about me.”

But sometimes, it was. And not in the “you’ll be the chosen witchwolf master magician” sort of way. In the . . . the way where I mattered as a person, to him and to the pack. I had a place I belonged, and I wanted to make it better.