33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

L ash

My elation vanishes as we run home. I neglected to explain a few things. She just signed on to something she doesn’t fully understand. Once she knows the facts, she might not want my knot—either physically or because of what it means.

We’re breathless when we barge into our living room. Even Miska is so tired she curls into her little doggy bed the moment I remove her leash.

Zoya looks up at me with so much affection it threatens to stop my heart. If I were selfish, I’d have her naked underneath me in a moment, but I have to slow this down.

When I stand from removing Miska’s leash, my beautiful human hurtles into my arms. I give her a hug and a kiss, but then curl my hands around her shoulders and stand back a pace.

It shows how well we know each other after such a brief time. She knows the mood has turned serious. She simply waits, our gazes connected, for me to tell her what’s on my mind.

“We were… busy when I explained about my knot. I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

Those pretty blue eyes flare wide. Though they were without fear while we were at the park, they’re now filled with alarm.

I hurry to explain. “Wolven mate for life.”

As I let my words sink in, I’m surprised her face doesn’t fill with fear as I expected. Instead, every muscle in her body seems to relax.

“Zoya, for me, this hasn’t been about a green card, not for a long time. This is about so much more than that. I love you and want to spend eternity with you. If you want, we’ll be married by the authorities, in front of your family, but for me, that’s a formality.”

I quit fighting my urge and give in to my need to hold her close, if just for a second. Only after pulling her into a tight embrace and breathing in her scent, can I set her far enough away from me to look into her eyes.

“I spoke to Bold; he has a human mate. He told me it’s possible to knot with a human.” He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“We can fall in love and choose to mate, like humans do. But when we mate with our soulbound , Zoya, the commitment is much deeper. After you take my knot, and it locks you to me, you’ll be it for me. My one. My only. My forever. There will be no one else.”

I hadn’t realized that deep in the back of my mind there was a small part of me that wondered if I was just a convenience for this amazing woman, fearing I was just a means to an end. I’ll find out soon, as I’m putting all my cards on the table.

“Since you’re human, I imagine you’ll be able to walk away from me if you want, but know this, after I knot you, I’ll never have another woman, human or wolven.”

My gaze has dropped from her eyes and is focused on the vein leaping in her throat. I stood up to Max earlier today, ready to give my life to save Zoya, but I’ve just encountered a cowardly part of my soul. Because I’m afraid of her answer. What if she doesn’t want to commit to this? To me ?

The silence stretches for so long, I force my gaze north to see her face. She’s not just smiling. She’s beaming at me. She must have been waiting for me to look at her before she spoke.

“I want this, too, Lash. I’m not taking this lightly. We’ve known each other such a short time, but I know my heart and am ready to commit for a lifetime. I am yours. You are mine. My one. My only. My forever. There will be no one else.”

It’s as though I’m a sprinter who just heard the gun signal the start of a race. I explode into action, lifting and twirling her as I carry her to our bed.

“Take off your clothes.” I don’t disguise the gruff command in my voice. My emotions are whirling inside me, primitive and demanding. They’re more in control than I am.

And look at her. She doesn’t hesitate as she yanks her dress up and tosses it behind her on the floor. It’s only this moment I realize I don’t want her to rip off the rest of her clothes.

“Stop! I’ll take it from here.”

She’s standing before me in nothing but her bra and panties. I don’t give her time to become self-conscious. Instead, I reach out and unclasp her bra. It takes me two tries because I’m already so deep in my bestial mind that my claws keep sheathing and unsheathing of their own volition. Finally, her bra falls to the floor as she watches me with wide eyes.

“I’ll never tire of looking at you, Starlight.”

Slowly, so slowly, I track the tip of one claw from her pointed chin, down the delicate line of her throat, between those beautiful breasts—two scant handfuls—to the waistband of her light pink panties. She came to America with one suitcase and has bought nothing since her arrival. If not for that, I would use my claw to slice the delicate fabric until it fluttered to the floor. Instead, I hook my finger inside and slide it down and off.

“ Fuck .” The word is out before I can stop it. The sight of her body takes my breath away. Leaning in, I take one breast into my mouth, sucking gently on the hardened tip before moving to the other, savoring the salty-sweet taste of her skin as she arches into me.

She’s standing in the strip of moonlight sneaking through the gap of the curtains. Her pink lips have popped open as she watches me, her eyelids so heavy it’s as though she’s dazed. Her breathing is ragged as she stands, ready for my next move as though she’s waited a lifetime for this moment. Perhaps she has. One thing is certain, I know I have.

After dropping to my knees, I grip her ass cheeks and nestle close enough to slide my tongue between her thighs. Finally, she swims up from her almost-drugged state to move. All she does is widen her stance for me, her eyes slitted as she watches.

“You want my tongue, Starlight?”

“Mmm.” She pauses, perhaps searching for a few more syllables. “All of you, Lash. I want all of you.”

“You’re perfect, Zoya. Perfect for me.”

I worship at the altar between her legs, lapping, licking, gently nipping as my hair grazes her belly. I don’t need to look at her expression to know how deeply sensual this feels to her.

Her scent alone is thick in our little bedroom, curling in my nostrils, lighting my senses on fire. And her hands are gripping my furred shoulders. If they weren’t covered in hair, I’d think they were magnetized; my Starlight can’t keep her hands off my soft pelt.

She’s moaning now. Shameless as she thrusts against me, wordlessly asking for more.

“I need…” she gasps.

I know just what she needs, and I don’t want to make her wait another second. If there’s one thing I’ve discovered, my mate is capable of endless pleasure. She might as well start now.

Careful that my claws stay sheathed, I reach to her little pucker and press just hard enough to make my presence known. She gasps, takes a tiny step forward, away from the pressure, and then stops herself.

“I won’t hurt you, love. Does it feel good?”

Dipping my finger in the arousal dripping on her thigh, I return to the little bud, not even trying to enter, just wanting to turn on every inch of her body.

“I’m… I’m not sure.” When I move my finger in a tight circle, she harshly huffs in air, then purrs, “Don’t stop.”

Perhaps she can feel my lips curl into a smile as I internally praise her courage.

With my other thumb pressing against her clit, I focus my efforts on making this woman, this perfect female, come. Making certain she feels my pelt against her hips, I let her know every cell and fiber of my body is engaged in giving her pleasure.

I moan, interspersed with sharp, quiet yips of joy, moving my head with every slow lick along her slit, sliding my tongue as deeply as possible inside her channel. I give her everything. Working her with all of me, even my mind as I silently urge her to let go, to come for me.

And she does. First, her thighs tighten, she gasps, and her nails prick my flesh even through my fur. Then she’s coming with long, low moans of pleasure so intense they sound like pain.

My sweet Zoya lets filthy words fall from her lips. “Fuck!… Blin!… Too m—” Her channel spasms around my tongue as she shakes and quivers. She’s in so much ecstasy I’m jealous, wishing I could live inside her skin for just a few seconds.

I nurse her through her pleasure and am not sure if she’s having one long rolling orgasm or several small ones with the tiniest pauses between each one. It doesn’t matter. It’s just beautiful to watch.

“Lash.”

She eases away from me, though her fingers are still gripping my pelt as she half-sits, half-falls onto the bed. I don’t know how she manages to do it, but she laughs. Not little giggles, but loud, hearty guffaws that somehow speak to how much pleasure she just endured.

“Magic, love.”

I’m not sure which is better, providing that much pleasure to my mate, or having her call me magic.