Page 113 of UNAwere

I turn for the door. Because I can’t be around him any longer. Not his scent, our scent, the sight of the bedsheets we mussed, the very, amazing, incredible thing we almost just did.

‘Sybbie.’

Jude’s voice stops me, and I look back.

He’s standing by the end of the bed, staring at me.

‘Can I ask one thing before you go?’ he murmurs.

I nod. ‘Of course.’

‘Do you want me?’

Shit.

What kind of question is that? When I’ve been thinking of this man twenty-four-seven? When I’ve wanted no one else’s company but his? When he makes me feel safe, and seen, and wanted?

Before I know it, I’m running towards him and leaping into his arms, until my legs are wrapped around his waist and my fingers are in his hair, turning his head at an angle so I can reach his throat.

My canines contract.

I bite.

Hard.

Jude collapses to his knees, groaning loud as he clings to me, and I moan as I taste his blood. I moan as I dig my teeth in harder and tear.

Claiming him.

Because if he won’t have anyone other than me, the least I can do is give him this.

My mate.

I swallow down his iron, lapping it up, and when I draw away, I take his face between my palms and kiss him. Something warm splashes against the insides of my thighs, and he makes a whimpering sound that floods heat throughout my entire system. His scent has grown stronger, and I relish it, realising I’ve made him come by giving him my mark. I moan, kissing him, tasting him, memorising him. And he lets me, sharing the taste of his blood with me, his hands clutching, pulling me closer.

We almost fall back to where we just were. I can feel it. In his touch, in the way he grips my skin, seeking every part of who I am and what I am to him. And I do the same, grasping him, our tongues colliding, the sounds we make melding. But then I pull away, remembering myself, closing my eyes against the soft brush of his lips as he tries to kiss me one more time.

‘There,’ I whisper against his mouth. ‘So you can know, you can be reminded of this when I’m not with you.’

‘Sybbie…’ His eyes are closed, and I realise tears are streaking his cheeks.

I kiss them, stroking his hair back. ‘Jude. I’m so sorry.’

‘I love you. Mate or not, I would fucking love you.’ He kisses me again, and I sink against him, letting out a small sob. ‘You are so fucking loveable, sweetheart.’

‘Thank you,’ I whisper. ‘For everything.’ I don’t tell him I love him. Because I think it would break me if I did, when having to pull away from this.

So I tear myself from him again. He’s on his knees, gazing up at me. And I lower my shirt, letting him look at me, take me in, memorise.

‘Here,’ he murmurs, picking up his discarded track pants. He uses them to wipe his cum off my legs, tilting his chin to meet my eye.

I bite my lip and take a small step back, out of his reach. And he seems to understand, lowering his hands back to his sides.

‘By the way,’ I murmur, backing towards the door. My shirt is still lowered, and he’s still taking in the sight of my nakedness. ‘Thanks for the crochet hooks.’

A small smile touches his lips. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘How’d you know that was my favourite brand?’ I ask.