TWENTY-TWO
Rocco’s handsstroked my back and hair while I shifted back, panting and groaning at the pain. It would be a long while before I was used to the assload of pain that accompanied shifting.
“Almost there,” he murmured to me, as the last wave of painful cracks and breaks rolled through me.
My body settled, and I panted against his chest, in his arms.
His arms cradled me to him, his body hot and hard against mine.
My clothes had torn during the shift to wolf form, so I was bare-assed, and he was pretty close to that too.
“How bad is the pain?” I whispered, my eyes closed and my face buried against his neck.
“No pain.” He continued rubbing my bare back. “Just a whole damn lot of gratitude.”
My face warmed a bit, and I said into his neck, “Asshole. You bought me a ring.”
His laugh made my lips curve up in a grin too. “I want people to know you’re taken when they meet you.”
“Ah, so the possessiveness drove you to it,” I said, feigning solemness as I nodded against his neck. “Good to know.”
A flood of heat rolled through my body, and I arched against him, moaning.
Rocco groaned. “That would be the climax.”
“Shit.” I wriggled off his lap, and though he let go of me, his eyes raked my body while I stepped away.
We’d seen each other naked plenty of times in the past few months, considering we showered together every day, but he’d never looked at me like that.
And hot damn, I liked it.
“Shit,” I ground out again, fighting the urge to jump him.
His eyes closed, his jaw clenching as his erection throbbed visibly. “You’re so damned sexy,” he ground out.
“I’ll grab clothes. I need clothes,” I blurted, stumbling toward the stairs.
Rocco’s footsteps were on the stairs behind me as I rushed upward, shutting the bedroom door and locking it behind me.
His head thudded against it, and his groan through the door was enough to have me slipping my hands between my thighs.
There was a cracking noise, and then the door crashed open before I could grab the clothes I’d gone in for.
Rocco stared at me, his eyes dark as they swept over my body.
Every piece of me ached.
Rocco’s hand was wrapped around his erection, over his underwear, and I tried not to drool as he pumped himself a few times.
Shit—hell.
“Platonically,” I panted. “We could fuck—platonically.”
“No,” he growled back.
I groaned. “Rocco.”
“Mads,” he shot back. “We both know this isn’t platonic. If we ride out the damned climax together, we’re not doing it as friends. We’re doing it as damned mates—and we’re going to keep doing it after the climax ends.”