Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
A little sound of protest leaves my lips, but Mark has forgotten to be careful with me. His wolf is going feral, and it's running the show. His dominance doesn’t produce even an ounce of fear in me, though. It feels natural. His wolf comes to the surface because he wants me so badly, not because he needs to hurt me. I somehow know if I protested, he’d pull back immediately.
He slaps me again on the other cheek, even harder. “Did I, babygirl?”
“No, Daddy.” The moniker just rolls off my tongue, but it feels right. I like calling Mark Daddy. I like the idea of Mark being my daddy. Protective. Caring. Dirty and demanding when it comes to sex. Fates, it’s only been twenty-four hours, but this male has already wormed his way into my very guarded heart. And it’s not just the pheromones talking.
Mark growls his approval, yanking my panties down my legs. “Aw, damn, babygirl. You’re going to get yourself fucked so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.” He peppers my ass with hard spanks, and each one lights another match of lust within me, the flames threatening to engulf me. My vision sharpens and domes, and I know my eyes have changed color, too.
My she-wolf is back.
She wants to be claimed.
“Panties off,” Mark chokes, frustration and lust thickening his voice.
I scramble to get my panties from my thighs to my ankles, and the moment I do, he kicks my feet wider.
I smother a shriek when he spanks my pussy, the wetness making a sticky sound.
“When I tell you clothes off, I need you bare, baby. How else am I going to lick this pussy until you scream?” He hooks his thumbs inside my cheeks and spreads me wide, making me arch and expose my sex.
And then his mouth is on me, his neatly trimmed beard scratching my sensitive skin as his tongue sweeps between my legs. He kneads and roughly squeezes my ass, all the while flicking his tongue over my clit, sucking my labia, nipping me. Every now and then, he delivers another stinging slap to my ass or thigh, mingling pain with pleasure. Danger with excitement.
Only the danger isn’t that he’ll harm me. It’s that he’ll claim me.
But it’s too late for me to stop things or even slow them down. I’m half-crazed for him now, too, moaning and needy, ready to beg for what he wanted to deny me of this morning.
“Colleen.” Mark sounds desperate. His wolf may start to go mad if I keep denying him what it craves. I think he’s going to ask for my consent, to mark me with his teeth, but instead he says, “I need to come inside you this time. Will you let me do that?”
At first my sex-scrambled brain doesn’t even understand the question, but then it dawns on me—he wore a condom last night.
“Yes,” I say, consequences be damned. I need to feel all of him, no barrier between us.
I hear the soft rustle of fabric, and then he shoves inside me. I buck against him, loving the sensation of being filled. Nothing has ever felt so right in my life, but then he pulls out again.
“I need to see your face, babygirl.” He flips me around, propping my ass on the edge of the bed before he shoves in again. I rest back on my elbows, watching the place our bodies connect. His thickness. The way my petals part and stretch to accept him. The scent of my arousal.
Mark’s silver gaze sweeps up my body, and then he frowns. “Why are you wearing that bra?”
I can’t help it. I giggle. Because Mark’s pseudo-anger of the state of my undress makes me feel coveted and gorgeous. “I thought you liked this bra.” I pull the cups of my bra down to show him my peaked nipples. “Your eyes turned silver when I picked it out.”
“Take it off, or I tear it off,” he threatens. “I like it too goddamn much.”
I unsnap it and slide my arms out, tossing it to the side. “Yes, Daddy.”
His grip on my upper thighs turns brutal, but I’m not afraid. I sense the passion behind it, not anger or violence. He slams in hard and fast. “Play with them,” he growls. It takes me a second to understand, and then I moan as I obey, weighing my breasts, squeezing them, pinching my own nipples.
“I’m going to come inside you. I need to mark you in some way, and you’re damn well going to take it.”
I’m thrilled by his demand because his respect for my wishes is still so clearly there. He won’t mark me, even though it’s killing him. I also suspect he’s warning me in case I choose to object.
And I should. But no part of me wants to. Fate sent me this mate, and I’m willing to roll the dice to see if Fate wants to give me a pup with him. Being a mother is the only thing I’ve loved about the last ten years.