Kresley Cole - MacRieve

His back bowed. “Woman! It’s strong !” he bellowed in disbelief. “Take it from me!” he roared as streams of hot seed shot into her.

She was still writhing with her own orgasm as his semen filled her, pulse after scorching pulse.

At the last instant, his entire body jerked. “There’s your pull, baby. That’s it.” Jaw slack, eyes rolling back in his head, he grated, “Take it deep for me. Take my seed so deep. . . . ”

When Will’s brain could register thought once more, one realization was foremost: I’m her mate.

Chloe had strengthened him. Indeed, his new power was so staggering, he feared hurting her. She lay still with her eyes closed. When he started hardening again, he forced himself to withdraw and roll his weight off her.

“Are you better, lass?” He thought he’d been gentle with her. Tonight, he’d leashed his beast so totally, he knew he could handle it as well as any Lykae. Better than! Still, he must have hurt her. “Chloe, did I—”

She suddenly arched her back, arms falling over her head. When her palms slapped the headboard, the solid wood cracked.

Will bit out a short, shocked: “Whoa.”

She reared up, eyes alight. “You’re my mate?”

“Oh, aye.” He beat a fist over his chest. “I could stop a locomotive right now.”

“Good. You’re going to need all the strength you can muster.”

“That so?” He rose to open the drapes. When he faced her, she was on her hands and knees crawling across the bed to him.

“I’ve got the moon on my back, my beast in submission, and the hottest piece of cambion arse feeding me power. I can take anything you can dish out. And your neck’s about tae bear my bite.”

When she visibly shivered, he said, “I’m back in the game with my bonny mate, no? I believe I just scored a hat trick.”

“You’re officially off the bench,” she breathed, “cleared for play. With a fangirl who fell for you—”

He lunged for her; she leapt for him. He caught her in midair, twisting to pin her against the wall as he shoved his cock home. “Ahhh, Chloe!”

She took his mouth with her own so hard their teeth knocked together before they found each other’s lips. Both their tongues thrust, both their hips rocked. Deep kisses, hard fucking.

She locked her legs around his waist, holding on for dear life because he was plowing her cunny like a piston. Bliss ratcheted to another record height.

When she sank her claws into his back, he howled with satisfaction—and did the same to hers. Though his beast remained dormant, Will’s fangs lengthened to mark his mate.

He and Chloe bounced from one wall to the next, shaking the entire structure.

Between kisses, she said, “I hope your keep’s sturdy!”

“It’s our keep, our wolf’s lair, and we’re about tae find out.” He took her mouth once more, and she licked his tongue, sucking it.

Mercy me.

But then she broke away with a breathy plea: “Mark me hard, MacRieve.”

“You want my bite?”

“I love you. I belong to you, and I want everyone to know it.”

Just stopping himself from roaring with triumph, he gripped her hair, tugging till her neck was bared to him. “ Is leamsa so, Chloe MacRieve. And I’ll be marking you as hard as I’m lovin’ you.” With a snarl, he sank his fangs into the tender skin of her neck, biting the ever-living hell out of her. . . .

On into the early morning, long after the moon had set, Will still hadn’t gotten enough of Chloe, was stiffening inside her yet again.

But his lass’s lids were heavy. After their exertions, his young mate had inevitably grown sleepy. Not from sickness—from a well-earned need for rest.

“I’m signaling for a tee-oh.” Her voice was throaty from her screams of pleasure.

He’d been insatiable, taking her repeatedly, determined to satisfy her in every way. They’d both been so much stronger that at one point, he had indeed worried about Conall.

Their new home had proved as enduring as time.

“Perhaps when you reach my age, you will no’ peak so early.” He tucked her hair behind her wee ear, marveling at his female. Adorable and sexy, all at once. “I’ll grant you a reprieve. But know that it’s reluctant and verra temporary.”

“Good.” She was dreamily running the pads of her fingers over his chest.

He’d sought peace with her, and he’d found it. Will felt right with the world for the first time. He could recognize that feeling just by virtue of how long he’d felt wrong.

Chloe had given him this. He’d conquered and claimed. And, gods, so had she.

“I still can’t believe you kept your beast on the leash.”

He shrugged modestly, though he was damn proud of himself. “You’ll only see it on the night of the full moon, if that’s your wish.”

“Can it hear me?”

“Aye.” He let it stir. “Try now.”

She cupped his face, gazing into his eyes. “You were so good tonight. In one month’s time I’ll have the sweetest treats for you.”

Putting the beast to bed, Will said, “And what treats are those? A Lykae’s curiosity is a powerful thing.”

“I know ,” she murmured with a coy grin, even as her lids were growing heavier. “You’ll have to wait to see, MacRieve.”

He curled a finger under her chin. “Will.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to call me Will.”

His name on her lips and a smile on her face, she fell asleep, with him still inside her.

You’re deft at this,” MacRieve told her as they practiced attacks and parries with swords.

For the last four days, he’d been training her to use various weapons, so she could protect herself. Though he’d had to admit, “You’re so strong, you could probably just crush your opponents.”

Chloe had never in her life felt so powerful—or so connected to another being. If she thought she’d been energized from sex before, she’d seen nothing. Evidently, now that her big Scot was in love with her and they were mated both ways, he was providing only the highest-grade energy. If she were still playing sports, his stuff would be banned.

And MacRieve—or rather, Will —was stronger than he’d ever been. She was trying to remember to call him Will, but it would take a while.

He thrust his sword with a quick jab.

She easily deflected it. “Sword-fighting is just like soccer. Read opponent, adjust tactic, misdirect. I am going to be so bad-ass at this.”

He scratched his head with one hand while he twirled his sword with the other. “You kind of already are. ”

“So are there any Lore competitions I could enter?” Today would’ve been check-in for the Olympics training camp. And even though a fascinating new life was opening up for her, she still missed aspects of her old one.

“There’s one competition. We old ones like to call it survival. ”

She laughed. “Smart-ass.”

He grinned. “Doona worry. If you’ve got a skill in the Lore, there will be someone around to test you. Especially during an Accession. But then, I have a feeling you’ll enjoy war. It’s like sports, though sudden death actually means death. ” He subtly telegraphed to the left, then struck to the right.

She blocked and misdirected with a two-handed strike upward—only to change it midair to a one-handed sweep.

MacRieve barely blocked it, raising his brows again. “You vow you’ve never held a blade in your hands?”