A Werewolf's Mate (Complete)

Mate (25)

They were both stretched out on their bed. Covered in a thin sheet of sweat all over. Erin was facing up, his chest serving as Pierce pillow. She was facing down, catching her breath half-way on top of him, half-draped on him. Their legs were tangled together, trying to touch everywhere it was humanly possible, without going into another round…

Erin was the first to enter their home, he was soaking wet. He was about to grab an umbrella and venture out to help Pierce in, but when he turned around she jumped into him, dripping water and all. Despite trembling with soaking wet clothes, he was not cold at all, and neither was she.  

They stumbled on top of the couch and Pierce was on top of him, kissing him with such ardor that Erin didn’t think he could last much long with his and her clothes on.

It was one of the few kisses they had shared yet.

He remembered the time, one morning, when he was woken up by her murmuring-sleep-talking. It seemed it might have not been a pleasant dream because she was whimpering a little. He had tried to wake her up, but she sort of tried to hug him, and hide on the nook of his neck. He wasn’t going to complain about that.  He didn’t complain either when she sort of started nuzzling his neck, his chin, his cheeks, and the tip of his mouth. He tried really hard not to try to kiss her back…but failed miserably. He woke her up with a kiss, and it had been mind-blowing when she kissed him back.

This kiss blew that one out of the park. It was like a first kiss…and long overdue.

Half-naked, half-on the couch, they finally consummated their mating. It was wild and raw, and perfect. To many people, it might have not been romantic, but to them it was natural, and flawless, a little rushed, a little unorthodox for a first time together, and a whole lot of suppressed feelings being let go.

It was them.

It was by far the best sex either of them had ever had. And it was only the beginning.

Pierce and Erin both ended up sprawled on the couch, next to each other, with Pierce’s pants off, and her shirt and bra half on-half-off, Erin without a shirt on and his pants barely staying in their place. Erin gave her a look, trying to catch his breath again—she looked at him too, and he took off the rest of his clothes in one swift motion, and literally jumped on top of her.

Then they ended up on the floor, next to each other holding hands and panting. No words had been spoken.

“We should probably get up.” Erin finally said, looking up. The floor wasn’t as comfortable when Pierce wasn’t wrapped around him, or on top of him.

“Okay. Though I might need help.” She said looking at him.

He stood up only as majestically and effortless as a werewolf could, and helped her up. They stood in front of each other, bare. Then they kissed again, slowly, savoring the feel, as if their bodies knew that what was going on with them before was not only passing—they would get to do what they just did often. So, they enjoyed it, tasted it, felt it at its core, and liked it very, very much.

Ever so slowly, he pulled her a little closer, into him, feeling every pore of her exposed skin with his own. Her arms went around him pulling his mouth in a better angle to compensate for the height difference. She wanted him closer, tighter, melted into her. She felt safe in his arms, as if nothing could ever happen to her, anything that could possibly ever pose as a threat, he would never let it touch her. She just knew.

She also felt like he was feeling safe.

It was true, Erin felt safe in her arms. He knew that she would be there for him. He felt like she didn’t care who he was, where he came from, or what he was. She liked him for who he truly and really was. And she told him with each caress on his bare back and sides—with each touch he felt himself tremble under her hand.