15. A Perfect Mating

15

A Perfect Mating

FLOR

B rand's words seemed to come from far away, though the warmth of his hands made me understand he was right there, holding me. "Please let me heal you?"

I had no choice, if I wanted to live.

At Southern, I'd experienced this. Not this situation, but the feeling. There was nowhere for me to go. No other option.I was treed, like a possum. Like I'd been once before, in the Hunt.

I'd promised my mama I would run from my true mate. I'd sworn to stay away from men who wanted to own me, who would hurt me. And Brand had hurt me.

But unlike all the others who'd done so before him, he hadn't meant to.

Underneath that bear-sized exterior, he was the gentlest, kindest, most thoughtful shifter I'd ever met. And he was still attempting to honor my right to choose my path forward. If he'd kept the truth from me about being my mate, he obviously hadn't done it for his own gain. Even now, he was giving me a choice.

I thought about trying to live as his mate. Living in the mountains, in the wilderness. Seeing his lake. Flickers of Finnick, Glen, and even Luke flashed in my mind. If I chose Brand, did I have to let them go permanently?

My blood raced, and I felt it begin to spill again, moving past the tape, my life ebbing.

Flor. Hold on. Stay.

A voice—though I wasn't sure it was in this world—called to me, called to my blood, slowing it further. Commanding it to stop flowing, as if such a thing were possible.

I heard the distant howl of a dark wolf, running to me, trying to reach me in time. The thud of those feet matched the race of my heart.

I wanted to live. I had to.

I took a shaky breath, my decision made. Sorry, Mama. I have to try to heal. Have to survive, and maybe someday… live.

Though it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, I lifted my good hand and placed it on his bearded jaw, letting my fingers delve into the soft hair. "Yes," I answered. He shuddered, then gently, carefully, lowered his face to mine.

For so many years, I had been terrified of the day a shifter would catch me and mate me, so I wasn't sure what to do with the desire that swamped me now. His lips were on mine, kisses soft and sweet landing on my closed mouth. His tongue lapped gently at my lower lip, enticing, inviting.

I wanted more of that feeling. Heady, rich, deep like the waters of his lake. I wanted to drown in him.

I opened my lips, and the kiss became demanding, insistent, like he was the air I had needed all along, and I was taking my first breath, my first taste of passion. "More," I mumbled into his mouth, and he answered, slanting his lips against mine, exploring my mouth with his tongue, smothering me in the scent of pine. Brushing his beard over my softer skin, waking every nerve.

I was overcome with hunger. I wanted him, wanted more . More kissing, more of his hands on me, more lips, even teeth.

The thought of his strong teeth closing gently on my earlobe… As if I'd whispered it into his mind, he moved his mouth to my neck and I felt it, a gentle bite that sent shivers throughout my body and turned my legs to liquid.

He pulled away, and I whimpered. Was he stopping? Then I saw his face; the emotions painted there were ones I had never imagined.

Admiration. Awe. He looked at me with eyes filled with wonder, his heart shining in them.

"Brand?" I wasn't sure what I was asking, but he smiled and nodded once.

"I would have filled a room with flowers," he said, his large hands infinitely gentle as he used a pocketknife to cut my shirt away, exposing my chest to the air. With a small snick, then another, he cut away my sports bra. "Courted you. I would have carved you gifts, sung you love songs. Danced with you."

My throat tightened as he spoke reverently, romantically, revealing a gentle heart that astonished me. He paused in undressing me. I couldn't meet his eyes, so I stared at the top of his head, wondering what he thought of his soon-to-be mate. Knowing what I looked like, knowing how much less beautiful I was than him.

"By the moon, little flower, you're… exquisite."

"E-exquisite?" My eyes dropped to his heavy-lidded ones.

"Perfect. So fucking beautiful." He groaned as if he couldn't stop himself, as if I were overwhelming him . He lowered his head to my chest, teasing one sensitive tip into an ever-tighter peak, nibbling, biting until I squirmed against the ground.

The wound in my shoulder didn't exist now. All that was left in the world was Brand's mouth. Then I felt his fingers, those huge, strong hands, moving toward the waistband of my pants.

"Are you sure?" I let my eyes answer him, but he stopped. "Words, Flor. I won't do this if you have any doubts."

"I want this," I whispered, closing my eyes at the cool air that rushed to kiss the skin on my bare legs. He pulled my underwear off as well, and my socks, and I lay bare under his gaze. I kept my own eyes closed, too shy to see what he might be thinking as he looked at all of me.

But then I felt the air move, and let my eyes fly wide, taking in his body as he tore—literally tore —his clothes into pieces. "Brand!"

His chest was covered with dark, luxurious whorls of hair, and I wanted to dig my hands into it, wanted to pull him to me. I lifted my good hand and did just that, using my nails to scrape his dark nipples as I explored that chest I'd been longing to map for days.

I wasn't planning to let my gaze drop lower—not yet—but I couldn't help it. I followed the arrow of dark hair down, down, to where his thick length pointed at me. Veins stood out along the shaft, the head exposed and purplish. I gulped, wondering if he thought that whole thing was going inside me.

"I'm big," he said, his voice an apology. He sounded embarrassed.

"Well, size doesn't matter, right?" I joked.

He let out a short laugh, and some of the tension in his eyes eased. "I'll make it good for you, Flor."

"You've had a lot of practice?" I teased, amazed that I had the energy to do such a thing. But the wound in my shoulder already felt slightly better.

"No," he murmured. "I mean, a little, a few things. But not... that. The girls were always… Well, I never wanted to do everything."

Unexpectedly charmed, I stroked a lock of his long hair. "It's your first time, too?"

"I wanted to wait for my mate. For you." A tiny smile crept out. "I thought it would be in a bed, with sheets and pillows, maybe."

"It's perfect here." It really was. No one was watching; Sergeant had cleared everyone out. And we were doing this under the sky, like shifters had mated in the old times.

Suddenly, all my doubts vanished. This was right. In fact, it was more than right.

"It's perfect," I repeated, gripping his firm bicep with my good hand, hoping he understood.

" You're perfect," he replied, shifting his weight.

I let out a small cry, as blood from my shoulder oozed past the tape with the sudden movement. A wave of dizziness assailed me, and I let go of him, needing to feel the earth beneath me. "Um, Bearman? We may have to speed things up."

"Shhh. I've got you." He dipped his head, and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the pain of him.

But instead, I felt wetness, warmth, pressure.

I opened my eyes again, shocked. He was licking me, moving from my breasts, to my waist, to my mound. His tongue traveled in a glorious path from my opening and around, mapping every inch of me, plundering me, and ending up at the top of my slit, at the bundle of nerves that ached for his touch.

The rasp of his beard teased as he circled over and over just there. He moved fast, using firm pressure, then gentled before he stopped. I protested as he blew a stream of cool air on my heated flesh before returning to his task with intensity, and focus.

I'd never felt anything like this. I hadn't known this was possible, that pleasure could build, even though I was in pain. That someone could care this much about how I felt. Every time I reacted with a sigh or a shiver, he took note and repeated that motion, as if he were hunting my greatest pleasure.

A good hunter indeed, my wolf purred, waking up and stretching inside me.

An ache started building in my core, and I thrashed my legs. "More. Please, I need… something."

"Shhh. I'll give it to you." He put his tongue and lips back to work, then moved two slick fingers slightly down, toying with my opening.I moaned as he slowly slid one finger inside me. It was already tight, but he thrust it deliberately in and out, feeling for something, searching... and then finding it. He crooked his finger, and that place, the little bit of sensitive inner flesh he'd found, sent shocks of pleasure that bordered on pain throughout my system.

"Brand!" I shouted, and he hummed his satisfaction against my achingly sensitive flesh, his clever tongue never stopping, moving in time with his finger.

My heart felt like it would pound out of my chest, making me wonder for a moment if I could die from bliss. With the wound I had, it seemed possible, but I wasn't certain I cared at this point.

It would be the best way to die. I almost said it out loud, but then Brand added another finger, stretching me, moving at an increasing tempo, and all that came out was a garbled moan of pleasure.

It burned, and ached, and the spirals that were looping through my core began to coil tighter and tighter. Then, just as I was afraid I would actually die—from the wound in my arm, or the tension that was coiling in my center, I wasn't sure—it all exploded.

I became fire, light, and joy. The air around us filled with the mingled scents of cinnamon and pine, jasmine and woodsmoke, salt and musk. His fingers kept moving, drawing the incredible sensations out, then stopped as he withdrew. I cried out unintelligibly, reaching for him, and then he was back, his chest pressing against mine, his fingers being slowly, inexorably replaced with his smooth, hard cock.

I cried out as the thick head pressed into me, not sure whether I wanted him to stop or never stop.It hurt, stinging deep inside, and it kept going. He moved so slowly that I found myself whimpering.

"Are you okay?" he panted.

I grabbed a handful of the luxurious hair that flowed down to his shoulders, and lifted my head to one of his nipples, biting down hard. "More," I demanded, tasting his blood on my lips.

He listened, sliding deeper, stopping only when he was as far inside of me as he could go. "It feels like?—"

I finished for him. "Home."

"Flor!" He started thrusting, groaning, nonsense words of praise and love falling from his lips. Something was building inside me again as he moved, coming closer.

It felt like running feet, sounded like howling.

"More," I demanded, breathing through the slight pain, the intense stretch. "Faster."

Brand picked up the tempo. We had to hurry, had to finish before those feet arrived, before anyone arrived…

Brand's length seemed to grow even thicker as he thrust and moved, becoming impossibly harder. His thrusts became almost brutal as he now chased his own pleasure, dark eyes blazing. I felt my own bliss begin to spiral upward again, tightening my core. I clenched around him, another spasm taking me over the edge, pulling me down, down into an ocean of pleasure.

"It's too much," I gasped when it felt like I might drown in sensation.

"Stop?" he demanded, his voice strained.

"No," I sobbed, and he let out a joyful laugh, thrusting even harder.

The world spun as he got close, and he set his mouth to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He released a groan of pleasure, then bit down, his sharp teeth sinking into my flesh, marking me.

It was painful. It was perfect.

And then he bent, so I could easily reach his throat. I didn't hesitate. I lunged for him, marking him as well, his warm skin breaking under my small, sharp teeth.

His blood filled my mouth, and I swallowed it down as he continued to fill me, pounding into me, holding me almost too hard. I could barely breathe under his weight, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything but this moment. I could feel the energy of his wolf, and when our eyes met, our inner beasts rejoiced.

He was mine. This steady, kind, strong, patient male. He was mine for now, and forever. My mate, my lover, my only?—

Ahoooo! The howls that interrupted my inner rejoicing weren't my imagination. They were real, and angry, and very close. My gaze flew to the side, to the nearest trees.

Two wolves—one russet, the other a deep gray—emerged from under the shadowy cover of the forest, approaching silently now.

Brand's movements were slowing and relaxing, while my heart raced at the danger he didn't seem to notice. I pushed on his chest. "Brand, get up. There are two wolves." I didn't know who they were; I'd never seen them before. At least, not in fur. I couldn't smell them, since the breeze had gone still.

They could be rogues.

"Brand!"

"Hmm." He nudged my neck, scraping his teeth against the skin there. "Just m'brothers," he finally responded. "They'll watch over us."

Brothers? Did he mean shifters from the Mountain pack? Curiosity joined my concern, and I tried to pull myself away to see them, but felt the duct tape tear loose.

I blinked and reached for my damaged shoulder. Was it healed? I grabbed one end of the tape and started ripping it loose, glad I didn't have much hair on my arm to pull with it.

It had worked. The wound was healed, not even a scar remaining.

"But... I didn't shift," I said, stunned.

Brand smiled sleepily, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. "You did, a bit. Your eyes changed, and your claws." He glanced down at his sides and chest, and I saw cuts there. Claw marks.

I blushed."By the moon, I'm so sorry. I didn't know I had?—"

"I wanted more." He growled, pressing his lips to mine and plundering them with a savage kiss. "I wanted to feel your claws in me, in my back. I wanted you to bite me a hundred times, to mark me as yours so no one would see anything but your brand on me. Your claim." Impossibly, I felt him start to harden again inside me.

"You are mine." I touched the mark at my throat that had almost healed, leaving only a slightly raised scar in the shape of his bite. "My mate."

For the first time in my life, that idea of having a mate didn't appall me, because it was Brand. I leaned in to kiss him once more, but paused when the wolves I'd heard before howled again, a duet of pain. They'd stopped, watching us, only a few feet away.

"What?" I pulled my torso free from Brand's grip and watched as the wolves transformed into Finnick and Glen.

A naked Finnick and Glen.

Brand used his bulk to cover my bare flesh, and I made sure to keep my eyes on their faces. But their expressions were every bit as naked as their bodies.

Finnick seemed enraged for some reason, his features as cold and severe as the first day I'd met him. His words were harsh and dismissive, but that didn't surprise me. "Quick work, Wills. We were gone for what? A few hours?"

But Glen was broken. "You chose him," he said, his hands making fists and releasing them repeatedly, as if he wanted to fight but had no opponent. "You mated Brand." A tear trickled down from one beautiful blue eye, and he turned, shoulders slumped, his posture submissive.

Fuck.