“Sometimes a couple will feel the bond without baring that much of themselves—it can depend on a lot of things. But one thing is absolutely guaranteed to block the frequency.”

“What’s that?”

“The unwillingness to believe that it might be there.” He slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck. “You have to let yourself wonder if it is, Gwen. And I know how hard that’s going to be for you, because it will mean letting yourself hope. And you fear hope almost as much as you fear happiness, because the two are very much linked.”

He was right. It might have been kind of backward to fear hope, but Gwen did. Feared hoping and reaching for something, only to be disappointed. She’d spent a good portion of her childhood hoping. Hoping that Hanna would love her, hoping that her stepfather would stop hurting Hanna, hoping she’d never be forced to lie to protect him from the police ever again. Hoping had done her a fat lot of good. She’d thought that just maybe fate or luck had intervened and led her to the Millers. But it turned out that Kenny had intervened.

“Until you can let yourself wonder if it could be true, we won’t feel that bond.” His wolf wanted Zander to bite her, claim her, so she couldn’t get away. But, though it killed him, Zander said, “Take some time to think about it all. Think about what I told you. What you feel. What you need.”

“Wouldn’t it be hard for you to give me time? I mean, if you think I’m your mate, isn’t it hard for you not to claim me?”

“Hell, yeah, it’s hard. For me and for my wolf. He constantly pushes me to claim you. It’s been killing me that I couldn’t tell you about it, but I didn’t know how you’d react. And giving you time won’t be easy for me, but if that’s what you need, I’ll give it to you.”

She raked a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to give it time. I don’t have the patience to sit around and ponder shit. I like to know the facts.” But there was really only one way to know. “You really truly believe we’re mates?”

“I don’t have a single doubt in my mind.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Just admit that it’s possible, Gwen. That’s all you have to do. You’re already mine, and I’m already yours. Nothing will change that. Not a thing. I wanted you for keeps before I realized we were mates. I am keeping you, no matter what.” He kissed along her jaw to her ear and whispered, “Admit it’s possible. For me. For you. For us. Admit it.” He and his wolf both stilled, holding their collective breath.

Gwen swallowed hard, wanting it to be true . . . hoping. “It’s possible.”

Zander’s knees almost buckled as the mating urge kicked in hard and fast—lust slammed into him like a fucking freight train, and black spots dotted his vision. His blood thickened, and his cock went instantly hard. The need to take and mark and claim crawled over him, demanded him to act. The only thing that stopped him from leaping on her was that she looked a little disoriented.

A mating between true mates was supposed to be wild and explosive. He’d never lost total control with her before. He’d come close to it, but he’d always managed to retain that one bit of sanity and remember their difference in strength. He wasn’t sure if he could do it this time—not while the mating urge was riding him and his wolf was going insane for her. But there was no way to fight it. Zander slid his fingers into her hair. “Gwen, I need to fuck you.” The guttural words came out through his teeth.

She took a shaky breath, fisting his shirt. “Then fuck me.” His mouth slammed on hers, and she moaned. The kiss was deep, hot, and hungry. Need was like a wildfire in her veins, burning and consuming every part of her. She felt shaky. Feverish. Desperate. Her nipples had tightened to the point of pain, and her pussy was already slick and quivering.

Stumbling around the room, they yanked off each other’s clothes in record time—until he was naked and she was wearing only her panties. His skin was warm and sleek beneath her hands, and she dug her nails into his chest just to hear him growl.

The breath whooshed out of her as her back slammed into the wall. Opening her eyes, she found Zander staring at her, his face set into a mask of dark, primitive need. Her pussy clenched. He tore off her panties and cupped her hard, and she almost cried because she’d needed his touch so badly.

She’d never felt like this in her life. Never felt like she’d die if she didn’t come just once. But even as she was out of her mind with need, it wasn’t just anyone she wanted; it was Zander. It had to be him. Some primal part of her needed him, needed his come inside her. “Zander.” It was a ragged plea for more, for anything. He drove a finger inside her, and she literally melted between him and the wall.

As he thrust his finger in and out, Zander licked over her bottom lip. “I love this mouth. It looked so very pretty wrapped around my cock.” He sank another finger inside her, groaning at how wet and hot she was. “No other cock will fuck it again. Only mine.”

Gwen licked her lips, remembering the feel of him in her mouth. “And your cock will never fuck any part of anyone else.” She kissed him, trying to ride his hand. He let her. Growled encouragements. Sucked on her tongue. Then his free hand fisted her hair, snatched her head aside, and he bit her neck. Like that, she came.

“I love hearing my baby scream,” he rumbled into her ear. Withdrawing his fingers, he sucked them clean. “I want more of your taste, but I can’t wait—I need to be in you.” Cupping her ass, he lifted her and poised her over his cock. “I’m going to fuck the absolute hell out of you. Right here, against this wall.”

Curling her legs around him, Gwen sifted her fingers through his hair. “Do it.” Instead, he lifted her a little higher and sucked her nipple into his mouth. Every tug on the taut bud sent a bolt of pleasure to her clit, making her pussy ache. She pulled on his hair hard.

“What do you want, Gwen?”

“I want to feel you in me. I want to feel you come in me—”

Zander slammed her down on his cock just as he drove upward, seating himself to the hilt. Her pussy contracted possessively around him. “Jesus, baby.” He powered into her, unable to stop. Every thrust was hard and almost savage, driven by his wolf and the compulsion to possess what belonged to him, to claim this one thing that would always mean more to him than anything.


Tags: Suzanne Wright The Mercury Pack Fantasy