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“That was draanthing evil.”

She grinned up at him. “You seemed to be enjoying it.”

He kissed her hard to shut her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Settling between her thighs, he rubbed the head of his cock against her. As he pushed inside, she paused to adjust to the stretch. He slowed, concern in his eyes as he watched her face.

She grabbed his hips and pulled. “Hey, I’m not made of glass, handsome.”

With a grin, he drove the rest of the way in.

For a moment neither of them moved, just breathing through the sensation of being joined again. Then he began to move, and she wrapped her legs around him.

She met his thrusts, pulling him deeper. He rubbed her clit, keeping his other hand beneath her hip.

“Oh God, don’t stop.”

“Don’t plan on it, kelarris.”

And he didn’t. The pleasure built hard and fast, and before she knew it her body tightened almost to the point of pain. Then she was there, right there on the edge, and for one perfect moment she looked up into his handsome face and knew that this was where she belonged.

She belonged here, with this man.

Her climax exploded through her, and she cried out as she clenched hard around him.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deep. He groaned her name against her throat as his cock jerked and pulsed within her, bathing her inner walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.

They lay tangled afterward, breathing hard as the quiet settled around them. She lay across his chest as they caught their breath.

“I love you,” he murmured. “More than I know how to tell you. I need you to understand⁠—”

She made him wait, studying the ceiling while his thumb stroked her back. Persistent bastard.

“Blythe?”

She hid her smile and kissed his chest. “Okay, fine. I love you.”

He smiled. God. He was going to look like that every time, wasn’t he?

She pulled him down and kissed him.

Later, curled against his side, she spotted something dark on the wrist draped across her waist.

Catching his hand, she turned it over. He wasn’t injured; these almost looked like tattoos.

She looked up. “What are these?”

He froze as he followed her gaze.

“They’re mating marks.” His voice was quiet. “They confirm a mate bond.”

He stared at his wrist, lips parted, then took a careful breath and looked at her.

“You’ve been waiting for these,” she realized.

“Yes.” He swallowed. “Well, no, I hoped. After our first night, I hoped… But they didn’t appear.”

Looking down, she took his wrist and slowly traced the markings with her thumb.