“You’re not my mate.”
“Yes I am. Soda or juice?”
She opened her mouth to reply juice , then shook her head in disgust. “I’m leaving now.”
“Take one step towards that front door and you won’t sit down for a week,” he called back in the same cheerful tone of voice he’d used to ask her drink preferences.
“I’ll call the cops and claim you kidnapped me!”
“Go ahead. The sheriff is one of us and Mrs. Anderson’s grandson to boot.”
“Ugh!”
“Yes, dear.” He handed her the juice with a grin, and she stifled the urge to throw it in his smug face.
She tried a different tack. “You don’t want a mate. You told me so.”
“True, I told you that.”
“I don’t want one either,” she growled.
“Too bad, so sad. You’re stuck with me.”
She bared her teeth at him as he sat down next to her, can of soda cradled in one big hand. “Not if I kill you first.”
He reached out and took her juice out of her hand. “You know,” he said, putting his can down next her juice, “I haven’t marked you yet.”
She jumped up just as he leaned in. “Don’t even think about it!”
He sighed, lounging back against the cushions. “You’re my mate. I’m your mate. I’ll bite you, you’ll probably bite me-”
“But not where you’d want me to.”
He glared at her, finally losing some of that cheer. “Is this because I said I didn’t want a mate?”
She rolled her eyes. “Dork.”
“Because if you say it’s to protect me from Parker I’m really going to paddle your ass.”
She shook her finger at him. “You’ve had as much touchy-feely on my butt as you’re going to get. Eep!”
He’d pounced up from the sofa and grabbed her, both hands landing on her ass and pulling her tightly into his body. He ground his hips against hers, letting her feel the erection under his slacks. “Oh, my,” she gasped.
He took her sunglasses off, his dark eyes flaring gold as they caught the bright red of hers. “You are so fucking beautiful, you know that?”
“I’m not,” she muttered.
His smile was slow and sensuous. He looked at her like she was a bowl of cream and he wanted to lap her up. “Oh yes, you are.” One hand continued to hold her against him; the other dropped her glasses on the sofa and lifted to caress her hair. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”
“Crap?”
He huffed a laugh. “No. I thought you looked like a snow princess.”
“Snow princess. How original,” she sneered, trying not to let his nearness (and his erection) distract her.
It would have worked if her voice hadn’t been trembling.
“I wanted to throw you down on the floor and fuck you until we both passed out.”
Her knees wobbled.
“Then I wanted to mark you and hide you away so no one would ever see you again, want you again.
Do you know why?”
“Pheromones?” she replied weakly. Her nipples were beading beneath her bra, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
His hand began to caress her ass again. “Because you’re mine.”
She frowned. If it wasn’t for his damn scent she’d be kicking him in the nuts for that one. “I belong to no one.”
“It’s okay. Because I’m yours,” he whispered before he took her mouth in a kiss that nearly dropped her to the floor. This was no gentle persuasion, no first-date kiss. This was a warrior staking a claim to his woman, invading her mouth roughly, no quarter given, forcing her lips and teeth to part for him with all the finesse of a raging, hormonal bull. And she loved it. His hand on her ass tightened to the point of pain, and the one in her hair clenched and pulled until her mouth was exactly where he wanted it.
He plundered her, claimed her even without his bite, and she reveled in it. In the past lovers had treated her like spun glass, with delicate care, almost as if they were afraid they’d break her. They’d ignored her strength. Adrian not only acknowledged it, he savored it. She practically climbed his body, burying both hands in his short dark hair and placing his mouth where she wanted it. He helped by cradling her ass in both hands, pulling her in tighter against him. She wrapped both legs around his waist and moaned as they continued to orally assault one another.
When he reared back and bit her, marking her, she came so hard she saw stars. He hadn’t even bothered to push the cloth of her shirt aside. He’d bitten her right through it, the savagery of the act heightening her arousal to a peak she hadn’t even known was possible.
“Bed. Now,” he muttered.
“Mm-hmm.”
He laughed huskily at her weak, breathy reply, carrying her up the stairs. Everything was a blur of burnt sienna and dark wood as he moved at top speed, practically banging them both into the wall as he banked to make the turn into his bedroom. “Naked. Naked’s good.”
“Um,” she replied, biting down on his neck.
He stopped dead in the middle of the room and shivered all over. He arched his neck up to give her better access, which she greedily took advantage of as she marked her mate the way he’d marked her.
The sound of ripping cloth was her first indication that perhaps she’d pushed him just a bit too far with the bite. His claws raked her pants away from her body, their cool touch sending shivers down her spine as she felt them hook her panties and rip them off, too.
When his claws shredded his own pants she moaned; the good, respectable doctor went commando under his chinos. She barely felt him kick them off as he entered her still standing. It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever felt in her life. He filled her almost to the point of pain.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Please do,” she gasped.
Gold eyes gleamed at her. “Don’t make me laugh, princess.”
She rotated her hips slowly, the sensation making his eyes close on a pleasured groan. “Spoilsport.”
He walked them to the bed, each step driving him further into her. With gentle strength he laid her down on the edge of the bed, his cock never leaving her body. “You ready for me?”
She stared up at him. “Nope. I thought I’d lay here and contemplate ceiling colors. Dork.”