The Mate (A Fire's Edge Short Story - Prequel)

Chapter 9

Fallon

Maddie moved against him restlessly, pulling Fallon out of a light sleep. He checked the clock, noting the time was after one in the morning, which meant he'd only been asleep an hour or so. What woke him?

Maddie moved, and her hand trailed up his abs and over his pecs.

Ah. That's what had woken him. Fallon wrangled his body with an iron resolve and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, the woman in his arms gave a low hum, almost a moan, which had him hard and aching in less than a heartbeat. Then she brushed her lips across his skin, kissing his neck.

Shit.

"Maddie." He gave her shoulder a shake. "Wake up." Another whisper of a kiss had him clenching his jaw.

He needed to do the right thing. He'd promised to give her time.

"Maddie." Another shake. "Come on. You're killing me here."

She huffed a laugh. "I am awake, you doofus. What does a girl have to do to get some action in this bed?"

She squealed as he rolled over, pinning her beneath him to search her expression with eager eyes. She was constantly surprising him. Gods, he hoped that never stopped. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Be sure. Because if I get started, no way will I be able to stop."

In answer, she kissed him. The sweet, sultry contact sent him soaring. This was the first time he was really getting to touch her. Those few other kisses had been about winning her, but he'd had to hold back. No longer.

Gods how he'd needed this, to be released like this. Urgency drummed through him to the erratic thump, thump, thump of his heart. With a low groan, he took over the kiss, owned her lips, sweeping his tongue against her softness, which she parted for him on a sigh. Fallon hooked his arm around her waist and rolled, tugging her on top of him so that she lay along his body. Scents mingled and swirled—wildflowers, and smoke, and the musky scent of her arousal blending with his own. Her legs fell to either side of his hips and he cupped her backside, pressing her into his hard, throbbing length.

She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him as he continued to devour those lush lips, the taste of her both familiar and achingly sweet on his tongue. He ran his hands up her back, over the curve of her waist to cup a ripe breast. She shuddered as he swept his thumb over the tight tip of her nipple through the thin cotton of her top.

"I need you so much," she murmured against his lips.

He wanted to whoop, crow to the sky, but he was too busy divesting her of her top. Then he rolled them again so she was beneath him, and bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard until she writhed beneath him.

"Fallon?" she whispered between sighs and moans. "Hmmmm?"

"Don't—" Her breathing hitched at another suckled and she moaned again. He smiled against her breast. "Don't use your fire when...when..."

That brought him to earth with a jarring thud. He released her breast to raise his head. With a gentle hand he smoothed back her hair. "You don't want to start the mating process?"

She swallowed, but shook her head. "I'm not ready."

She wasn't ready for forever with him. The only thing holding the slicing, lay-him-open-and-leave-him-bleeding pain at bay was the knowledge that she'd still chosen him. He cupped her breast, kneading, his own need still riding him hard.