Vivian Arend - Wolf Flight

Tad shifted to the side and his hand passed over her belly to cup her breast. He drew in sharp breath.

“Shit, Missy. You’re not wearing a bra.”

She thrust her chest into firmer contact with his hand. Electric shocks slid through her as he nestled the globe of her breast in his palm, his thumb brushing her nipple with a ghostly touch.

Muttered words of passion reached her ears. He pushed up her sweater with his hand and lapped at the taut peak. Covering the whole areola, he suckled hard. A line flared from his mouth to her core, lightning flashed and she cried out as she clutched him tight.

She’d never felt anything like this before. She needed him, needed his desire, his mouth. She was empty and only Tad could fill her. He switched to her other breast, slipping his hand back past her belly to the waistband of her sweats. As he slid his fingers under the elastic, she opened her legs in welcome, tugging on his hair to force his head to her mouth. His taste was addictive and she wanted more.

As Tad’s fingers brushed her mound he drew another quick breath then spoke against her lips. “Girl, you’re killing me. No bra, no panties… Oh damn, you’re wet.”

His hand cupped her mound, one finger slid through her curls to part her sensitive lips. His finger nestled just inside her sheath.

Missy closed her eyes and drank in the sensations as a shiver raced over her skin. His lips, demanding a response, feasted on her mouth, yet the hand that explored her pussy was soft. He stroked her, slow and controlled, even as he kissed her hard and furious. His body shook and she wondered how much longer he would last.

She didn’t want gentle anymore. The desire to be filled, to be seized by Tad and completely possessed, overwhelmed her. His scent hung strong in the air, filling her nose, her mouth.

Her heart.

Her soul.

Tendrils of emotion passed briefly between them and her eyes flew open with surprise. Oh, sweet mercy, it really was happening. The mate connection. She’d been told what to expect but never thought she would experience it. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Being tied to Tad with a false mating meant she would escape from her Alpha’s clutches and that had been the goal. But she’d never expected the connection to feel so real.

She must have made a small sound not in keeping with their lovemaking because Tad pulled back. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and took a few deep breaths. He shifted to pull away, but she caught at his shoulders, wrapping a leg around him to freeze him in position.

“I wasn’t telling you to stop. You’re the best lover I’ve ever—”

“Let’s not talk about other people loving you,” Tad gritted through his teeth. He rolled to the side, keeping their legs in contact. “For some reason the thought makes me want to shoot someone.”

Missy stared at him. Was it possible? She knew what she felt. The emotional desire to be with him was even stronger than the physical compulsion. And the physical was off the charts. She cupped his face in her hands and reached out with her Omega sense into his mind, into the emotions and needs hidden away. Images flashed—naked bodies twined together, children playing in a field, two hands clasped that were wrinkled with time—Missy gasped.

She’d been wrong all along. She’d assumed her desire for him was a false reading when really she should have known.

He was her mate. Her real, honest-to-goodness, forever-and-always mate.

“Oh, Tad.” This was more overwhelming than she’d ever imagined it could be. With his taste rioting through her body and the images from his mind encouraging her, it was all she could do to stop from stripping off their clothes and jumping his bones.

Not that it was a bad idea.

She trembled in his arms and Tad came close to losing control. He looked into her eyes, checking to see if she was afraid. Fuck. He must have done something, moved too fast, not shown how much she meant to him. Pain, deep and sharp, thrust into him and he sucked in a breath.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Tad tried to untangle their limbs, he tried, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Leaving the heat of her touch would wrench his heart from his body.

“Nothing’s wrong, everything’s right.” She cupped his face in her hands again, the softness of her touch washing over him with equal parts of desire and peace. There was something so right about Missy, so far beyond mere sex that his mind grew foggy and it was hard to concentrate on her words. “Can you feel it? This isn’t just FirstMate, it’s more. You and I, we’re mates.”

Tad froze. It wasn’t possible. She’d had a mate, yet for some reason she was getting the message they belonged together forever. Oh bloody hell, it was the frickin’ werewolf hormones again. Somehow she was getting a false positive.

How could this happen? How could it happen without them having sex? She was going to think she was in love with him for the rest of her life and it would just be pheromones controlling her. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t treat someone he cared about in such a cold, heartless manner, especially Missy. Tad summoned strength he didn’t know he had from within and dragged himself away.

They both cried with low moans as he stumbled across the room to put distance between them. The physical pain that shot through his body was unexpected and nearly drove him to his knees. His eyes blurred for a moment and the room spun as he grew light-headed.

“I’m so sorry, I really am.” He would do anything to stop from hurting her. His limbs shook as he leaned on the doorframe. His body was on fire, even more than when he was touching her.

She was pale, confusion written all over her face, and he ached for her. The situation was beyond her control and entirely his fault. “I thought, I mean…” She hesitated before closing her tear-filled eyes and starting to shake. “Don’t you want me?”

A sound of agony ripped from his throat at the thought of denying his need for her. Bloody werewolf genes had messed up his life and now Missy’s. All he wanted was to hold her and make it all better, but it wasn’t possible. Everything he’d been told over the years meant she had to be mistaken and unless he stopped now she would suffer forever. He softened his voice and let his caring come through as he spoke. “Hell, it’s not you, it’s me. Don’t you see? I’m not triggered. We can’t be mates, it’s the pheromones blinding you. You just think I’m your mate. Oh, sweetheart, I wish it was true.” He wished it with everything he had.

“It is!” Missy cried. She was on her knees now, her sweater askew, hair tousled everywhere.

He’d never seen anything as beautiful. It was sheer torture to drop his gaze from her, his heart pounding fast, his ears ringing as blood roared through his head. He forced down his lust to try and reason with her. “I can’t be. You have a mate.” It never happened twice. A once-in-a-lifetime event and when they died, a piece of you died.

“I had a husband, Tad. Not a mate. We were married but it was a political thing forced upon me.” She rose and reached for him.

Tad held out a hand to stop her, his mind spinning. She’d never had a mate. She’d said they were mates. Could she be right? He sniffed hard. The only aroma that reached him was the faint scent of wood smoke. His sinus passages were plugged, his forehead felt hot. His body ached.

Did he want her? Hell yeah, but there didn’t seem to be the irresistible connection that he’d been warned occurred when true mates met. He wanted to bury himself in her and protect her, but he’d felt that way since they were kids back in high school. The connection, the pull, he felt equally strongly with his human side. How could this possibly be a true mating if he wasn’t sure? The trickle of doubt that remained tied his hands.