His shaft was coated in her release. She was so tight, and it reminded him of her virgin state. No other man had touched her. She belonged to him.
Staring into her eyes, he couldn’t look away. He’d denied himself Misha for so long, refused to give in to temptation. Now, with her spread eagle, ready to take him, he couldn’t deny himself, and he didn’t want to.
The only person he wanted was Misha. She was his soulmate.
His reason for breathing. His reason for being.
Everything.
Holding her hands, he locked their fingers together at the same time he took possession of her mouth, kissing her. He had to be as close to her as possible. Nothing else would do. Misha was his.
My mate.
Mine.
Mine.
The words kept on repeating inside his head, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Her soft vanilla scent was heady. Every single part of her called to him.
For three years, he’d fought this possessive need. At times, he’d felt toxic with how badly he fought it.
They weren’t the same age. Misha was younger than him, but he wasn’t going to fight this anymore. Misha was his. He’d fucked up big time and he wasn’t going to let another moment go.
Even as he feared for her life, for what being his mate meant, he couldn’t fight it any longer, nor would he.
Thrusting in hard and deep, he felt the first wave of his release. He moved to the hilt within her, praying she would become pregnant with his child and he’d have more hold over this woman.
Misha was his. He wasn’t letting her go.
Now he just needed to convince her to trust him.
Chapter Eight
One week later
Misha opened her eyes and glanced around her bedroom. The events of the previous night rushed back to haunt her. When she’d finished up at the diner, as she was once again needed to help with the pack, Decker had been there. He’d stayed all night, sitting at the counter and drinking coffee.
She’d expected him to leave.
Nope.
He’d stayed all the way until closing. Once she got outside, he’d been waiting for her. He walked her home, and when they got to the house, she’d pounced.
Covering her face with her hands, she tried not to groan about what she’d done. She hadn’t even given him the chance to reject her. She’d shoved him up against the door and kissed him, running her hands all over his big body. Before she knew what was happening, they were inside her home, the door closed, fucking.
“You’re thinking way too hard,” Decker said.
They had sex three times last night. Once in the living room. Decker had carried her through while she’d been riding his cock. The man was so strong as he carried her from room to room.
After their first round of sex ended, they were both starving, which led them into the kitchen, eating, and so a second round of sex happened. Finally, they ended up in this bed together, which was crazy, but sex had also ensued again.
Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.
She couldn’t get enough of Decker, of his body, of being near him. Her wolf was now sated though. No late-night runs in the forest to help tame her. Not that it was ever a hardship to take care of herself. Running with the earth under her foot and the night surrounding her was always fun.
“You need to leave,” she said, sitting up.
“Misha, when are you going to forgive me?” He put his hand on her naked back and she felt him move before he was suddenly right next to her. His arms wrapped around her waist, and the feel of his cock against her back made her want to cave already.
Mate.
It didn’t matter how many times her wolf wanted her to mate with this man. Misha was determined to hold herself back. To not give in.
“I don’t know what you think is going to happen, Decker. You’re the one who rejected me, and I finally got my head out of my ass, and now you’re always around. Why? Did it take me wanting to leave for you to finally see what the hell you’ve got in front of you?” she asked.
Shoving out of his arms, she spun around to glare at him.
Big mistake.
Being angry at Decker was far easier when she didn’t have to see him, could imagine him being this horrible, evil villain, but not like this. Not when his black hair was all messy, not a single part of it in place. How sexy his eyes looked as he stared right back at her. The curve of his lips, which told a story of a man satisfied. Then, of course, there was the fact his heavily inked, rock-hard body was on full display, including the evidence of his arousal. He was more than ready for her.