My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

August licked that spot where her mark had pearlized on his tan skin, and her hips started swirling against him, causing him to almost swallow his tongue with the sensation it created.

She urged his mouth to lower over her neck as she rode him, circling the head of his cock with the sensitive rim of her entrance and finding her own rhythm, her own way toward that brilliant center of ecstatic being that promised to explode when she finally reached it.

"Oh Goddess, Graeme," she gasped, throwing her head back as she held onto his neck.

Graeme watched, transfixed with his mate and her movements, the flaming red of her skin where the water hit it, the perfect curve of her breasts that beckoned him with each little bounce in his direction, the graceful line of her neck as she arched away. He was holding under her ass to give her leverage, and he cursed inwardly at not being able to grab her breasts and her neck and golden hair—she was teasing him being this exposed and sexy as hell.

When August attempted to bend even further away from him, chasing the fiery trail of ecstasy that was circling her, her hand on his neck slipped. She slid away from him, but Graeme caught her around the shoulders and growled, taking her mouth and taking control of the movements as he pushed past the teasing swirls of her and thrust straight into her center.

She gasped, her eyes flying open to reveal the brightest gold he had ever seen there like twin suns that would burn him if he flew too close.

"Are you okay?" he panted, repositioning his hold on her to make sure she was secure and wouldn't slip.

"Yes, yes," she nodded, surging higher—closer to her goal, and he needed to come with her.

In her mind, she was reaching for him, pulling him along as they got closer and closer to that bright, brilliant light that was like a home they could only ever touch briefly, because once they did, it shattered and had to be rebuilt.

"Come with me," she told him.

"I'm with you, Moon."

"Mark me again," she pulled herself closer where his neck was once again within reach.

Both of his arms wrapped around her back, securing her to him as he continued that delicious, perfect slide and lowered his canines over her neck. She could feel the prick against her skin, but he hovered there, unsure.

"Oh Goddess," she groaned as his thrusts found that spot that sent bolts straight through her eyes to the dark sky. "Yes, yes, Graeme," she whined, sending a flash of predatory hunger through him as he sought to clench on and own this vulnerable mate in his arms.

Without further hesitancy, he sunk his teeth deep into the bend between her neck and shoulder. August cried out with the pleasure and pain that coupled and spun together as she felt his soul flowing directly into her from its source.

He was everywhere. He lit up behind her eyes more intense than he had ever been. They were mates; he was always there. But this was a profound deepening that seemed to reach even further, feathering out into every cell, filling any void that had begun to be carved out again with insecurity or worry, distance or shame.

That surge of him that was rushing through her, coupling her feelings with his own and indenting them on that tender part of her skin made her mouth water for him, and she bent her head down and sunk the sharp tips of her canines in that were seeking his flesh, his being to connect with her own.

And then the circuit of their starlit souls entangling and enfolding, spiraling together, was made complete in a way it never had been. All of him was flowing through and offering itself fully to all of her that was spreading its light and warmth through all of him to do the same.

They were a sensual and spiritual ouroboros with no end, only a continuous, entangled path of being and becoming that pierced through and invalidated time. It was eternal. It was perfect.

The distance that had been forced between them during those weeks of silence and avoidance collapsed, slapping together like thunder that Graeme mimicked now with each crash into her, each return he made after sliding away—a rhythm that promised more, that promised an eternity of this. Whenever they parted, he would find her again. He would return.

This eternal return of their two parts into one was so assured, it was like breathing—only this was the breath of the spirit that required not life but only existence. It was a given. There could be no worry here that they would cease to be mates or cease to be together or cease to exist, for they were the definition of existence—now and always. Whether it was here in these forms or as formless, scattered starlight that danced ever together amid the sky. They would always be, for here they were—the proof of it forever circling, filling, becoming.

Once the sacred knowledge of this certainty filled them both so completely, they both let go with their teeth, coming up for air with gasps and moans that crescendoed once the light within them peaked and shattered.

Graeme steadied himself against the shower wall amid the tremors that raked him with his mate still in his arms. Once he was certain he could walk, he stepped out with her and grabbed a towel, covering her back with it as he transferred them to the bed. She was trembling uncontrollably as well. What they had experienced was so much more than what their bodies knew how to handle.

"Goddess, Moon, what was that?" he laid her down, climbing in next to her where they could stay pressed against each other without the risk of losing strength or falling to the weight of what had just happened.

"It was… everything," she whispered in awe and then felt him licking her bite wound, simultaneously cleaning and healing it. "You are everything," she pulled away from him so he would meet her eyes. A radiant grin spread across his face as he did.

"What?" she asked, mirroring his expression.

"I healed you," he gasped and then chuckled, tears welling in his eyes as he placed a hand on her cheek. "Your eyes are blue again, my love.. I healed you after all."