My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

"That was short," August said breathlessly, and her mate stopped breathing. "Are you okay? Why aren't you breathing?" she giggled.

"That was short? That's what you have to say?"

"Well, I just mean compared to the all night thing that you mentioned," she giggled again. "Can you blame me for being skeptical?"

"If you want to try it tonight, I'm all for it. I was worried about Greta and Sam, but honestly I could give a shit now. But you're out of breath. Can you hold up to an all-nighter?"

"Can you?" her eyes went wide. Was he really serious?

Graeme growled and scooped her up in his arms.

"Where are we going?" she gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I have wanted to have you in the shower," his growl puttered in his chest before he locked onto her mouth again, stirring her desire with his tongue as his hands gripped her tighter.

She groaned into him, her sounds getting lost in his mouth.

"Or maybe just right here," he breathed and repositioned her so her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked her up against the wall.

"Right here is okay," she nodded, totally lost to him.

"Goddess, why can't I get enough of you?" he panted, forehead pressed against hers. "If I carried you around like this all day, do you think anyone would mind?"

"It might be distracting," she giggled and writhed against him, causing him to moan.

Graeme settled her down on top of him, causing her to suck in a breath and grip the sides of his face as he mimicked her expression.

"Are you okay, Moon?" he breathed against her without moving.

She nodded wordlessly, getting used to him like this—so full within. When she met his eyes again, hers were a bright, vibrant, glowing gold.

"I'm here, I'm yours. Take me," she whispered, and he did as she said.

The family picture that was on the side table shook and jolted before toppling over as Graeme found leverage against the wall to rejoin the warmth of his mate in that perfect repetition that united them, bringing them home to each other over and over again—but this time it wouldn't be short.

Little beads of sweat had appeared on the ridge of August's top lip and along her the hairline where tiny blonde hairs sprouted, sparkling and catching the light from her glow. Graeme was glistening with evidence from their exertion as well, making him slick and sweaty and more feral in appearance as his eyes stayed focused on her—narrowing with every little quiver, every little sound—learning how the swirl of his hips one way made her eyes roll back and fingers dig in and how just the right angle had her sensuous, pink mouth dropping open and panting.

She bloomed for him, opening up to become her most vulnerable and most trusting in his arms, and he gobbled up every morsel that she offered of herself. She was reaching that peak over and over again, getting used to its height, getting used to the surrender it required of her. And then her eyes would become hungry and possessive as she turned on him, desiring for him to follow her, desiring to coax that same vulnerability from him.

Graeme carried her into the bathroom still wrapped around him while he leaned to turn the shower on and tested its temperature. His mate was limp against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair before her kissing her there.

"For what, my Alpha?" she breathed a laugh against him with the little strength she had left in her.

"You are exhausted. I've been greedy."

The water fell in his hand at the perfect temperature and he stepped in still holding her, still inside of her. When the cascade hit them both, she hummed her approval, one hand rising to play with the hair at his neck.

"You haven't been greedy. You've been perfect," her head rose from his shoulder, and she traced the drops of water over his face before her gaze alighted on his eyes and all the depths of affection they held.

"I wore you out," he whispered, leaning to kiss her again.

It was meant to be short and sweet, but her hand snaked sensuously across his back and she opened herself to him again—offering him the fullness of her mouth and the tension in her legs that squeezed around him and pulled his hard length further into her.

"You didn't wear me out," she replied softly and urged him again with her legs.

"Moon…" he groaned, trying to resist. He knew she was tired. He could feel it.

"You wanted me in the shower," she whispered and offered him those innocent, beseeching eyes as her breasts pressed against him, becoming slick with the water that slid, finding unobstructed pathways between their flesh.

"I also want you able to walk tomorrow," he chuckled, but she felt the temptation working on him and she grinned.

"Am I too weak to handle my mate?" she asked coyly and gripped the hair at his neck tight before tugging his head backward, exposing the thick length of his neck to her. "I gave you this mark," she reminded him before pressing her mouth against it and allowing her teeth to threaten their penetration again.

"I remember," he gulped, exposed and vulnerable.

"Shall I bite you again, Alpha?" she asked, tilting her head to receive his answer.

"If you wish to, my Luna," his words were strangely shaky, reminding her of the power she had over him.

She returned her mouth to that spot and let the broad flat of her tongue lick it slowly. The action teased a fierce, prickly possessiveness to the surface, and he groaned feeling it crest in her. She was going to bite him again, he could feel it.

"I want you to bite me, too," she growled against his skin and felt the canines in her mouth seem to elongate and sharpen in response to her mate's proximity.