He just asked me to be his chosen mate and I said...ok. Panic sets in and I back out of his grasp and pace the floor.
I ruined it. He said the kinds of things that everyone longs to hear, the kinds of things that people wait their whole lives for.
My response?
Ok.
I could kick myself.
"Jo?"
His voice is soft and I can't bring myself to look at him. How does this sweet, wonderful man want me?
I feel his fingers reaching for my arm, grazing my skin.
"What's going on?"
In a split-second decision I decide against words, clearly, I'm not great with expressing myself verbally. I grab his face and pull him down slightly, pressing my mouth to his in a desperate attempt to show him how I feel.
My response to his eloquent proposal in no way represents how I feel about him or what he asked and I need to fix it, to make it right.
He doesn't hesitate to return the kiss, to give back as much as he's getting. We kiss like our lives depend on it. I grip his shirt like he's going to disintegrate if I don't hold him close.
He runs his hands down my body, gripping my ass through the thin silky fabric of my robe. Our insatiable need for each other taking over, once again.
"I want you, Lincoln," I moan against his mouth.
When he lifts me into his arms I realize that once again, words are failing me. I didn't mean sexually, of course, I want him that way, but I meant deeper, more.
"I mean, I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine. I want to choose you, too. I... " my mind is frantic and racing in one hundred different directions.
He carries me to my bed and lays me down, letting his eyes roam over my body before climbing over me, settling himself between my legs. I can feel him through the barely-there material, it takes the breath from my lungs.
He grinds himself into me, rolling his hips torturously slow, letting every long, hard inch of him rub against me.
"P-Please," I whimper, feeling desperate for him.
His deft fingers run up my leg, over my hip, and onto my waist, pulling the sash holding my robe closed, exposing my body to him. His fully clothed body covers mine completely.
I rip at his shirt, smattering several buttons across the bed as I tear the barrier keeping his skin from mine. When the shirt is torn away I move to his pants, pulling at the button and zipper harshly.
He chuckles against my lips, "slow down, Jo. We have all night."
My already sore body shudders with anticipation. This man is capable of incredible things and I can't wait for more.
He slips down the bed, kneeling on the ground in front of me before pulling me by the legs, setting my body on the endogenous of the mattress with my legs resting on his broad shoulders.
He quickly presses his hot mouth to me, kissing my core with tender love. Desperation takes over me and I can't keep my hips still. I want him to lick me harder, this teasing is too much.
"More, please," I beg as my hips grind against his mouth.
"Patience," he growls as he wraps his arms around my thighs, effectively holding me still as he continues his slow, deliberate attack. I try to move my hips, to create friction, but he's too strong.
"Lincoln," it's almost a scream, frustration boiling below my hot skin.
He finally shows me mercy and presses his tongue wide and flat against my aching clit, stroking me with a firm pressure that drives me wild. My legs start to shake embarrassingly fast.
He licks and sucks relentlessly, drawing not one, but two orgasms from me. My mind is temporarily stunned, I feel a hazy mixture of exhaustion and bliss. When I finally pull my eyes open he's standing, naked in front of me, his hand fisting over his cock.
I didn't even hear him stand or pull his pants down. How long was I out? I watch him, unable to take my eyes off of his.
Even through my exhaustion, I'm ready for him.
He steps forward and lets himself down over my body. A tingling sensation takes over my skin.
He lines himself up with my entrance but stops there, looking in my eyes. I can see his canines through his parted lips and my heart stops. An indescribable yearning burns through my body.
He brings his lips down to my neck, sucking gently at my skin. I groan and start to tremble beneath him, every part of me wanting him to sink his teeth into me.
The feeling of him between my legs and his teeth against my skin drives me mad.
"Lincoln, please," I'm giving him consent, begging him to take me in every way.
The rough growl that shakes his chest has my core clenching again. He pulls his face back, looking into my eyes, searching.
A small smile pulls at my mouth as I nod. I know he's making sure that I know what I'm saying.
He slides his hips forward slightly, letting himself slip into me. Our eyes are locked together as he buries himself between my legs. When his hips roll into mine his eyes flutter closed.
For several minutes we move in desperation, seeking the pleasure we find only in each other. His fast, bruising pace makes my body jerk.
"Fuck, Jo.... Jesus Christ..." his voice is frantic as he slams into me. He presses his canines to my neck without breaking the skin but the slight pressure makes my walls grip him like a vice.
"Yes," I whisper, lifting my face to give him more access.
A pained sound rips through his throat and he bites into my neck. A loud scream tears through me before I can stop it. There is no pain, only a euphoric bliss.
I can feel his wolf, I can feel him invading my body. It's an indescribable sensation. My wolf purs, feeling the connection between us grow.
A strange new power flows through me, an authority that is palpable.
His wolf, his soul, his love, it moves like blood in my veins, I can physically feel it spreading.
He laps his warm tongue over the bite and rocks his hips forward, "mark me."
A possessiveness takes control of me, a need to complete the bond, to make him my mate. Kissing his neck roughly I bite into him.
Time slows and the sound of my blood rushes in my ears. I feel his body tense, his muscles rippling in his chest as he cums.
A long, drawn-out, "fuuuuck," fills the air as he twitches between my legs.
I can feel him like he's in my head. Is this heavy feeling of satisfaction his or mine? Our emotions are linked, intertwined so that I don't know who feels what.
A smile pulls up on his lips as he stares down from above me.
"I'll choose you everyday," his voice is full of emotion.
My lip quivers. If I try to speak I know I'll break down, so I kiss him instead. As I run my fingers through his hair the weight of what we've done settles in my chest.
"My chosen mate," I sob into his chest.
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