Shifters of grey ridge b.., p.51
Shifters of Grey Ridge Box Set, page 51
part #1 of Box Set: Books 1 - 3 Series
It’s impossible to read whether Marcus is angry. His expression gives nothing away, but just being this close to him is sending my emotions haywire. His body language is tense, and his movements are smooth and controlled. He’s holding himself back. I can tell that much, but whether it’s fury or want he’s keeping a handle on is hard to tell. All I feel is need. The muscles in his arms bunch and ripple as he clenches his fists and all I want to do is trail the corded lines with my fingertips and wrap my hands around those bulging biceps. God, he’s sexy when he’s serious.
Focus, Leila.
“What exactly did she tell you?” I ask, walking backward first but then scooting around an armchair when the backs of my legs collide with it. He’s making me anxious, and my heart is thumping in my chest. Butterflies in my stomach are making me feel giddy. Sweat slicks my palms, and all of my senses are on high alert from the combination of apprehension and arousal. I can feel the dominance of his bear, his alpha aura.It’s leaking out into the surrounding air, and making my wolf want to roll over and submit in more ways than one.
“Not much. I figured this part out all on my own,” he says, looking again at my stomach briefly, before continuing his slow pursuit of me around the living room furniture. “Although, considering how long it took me to put the pieces together, I may have to reconsider my career.”
“I was going to tell you. In the hospital. I wanted you to hear it from me first. I was going to come back in a few days and visit you at home,” I explain. He must be mad. That’s why he’s not saying anything. He’s trying to stay calm and not scare me because of the baby.
“I know. Leila, it doesn’t matter to me,” he says adamantly, finally getting close enough to snag my wrist and stop me from moving further away from him again. He rubs the back of my hand with his thumb reassuringly. Maybe he’s not mad.
“What?” I ask, totally confused. This is massive. A baby is going to turn his quiet, solitary life upside down. How can it not matter to him? Is this a bear thing, where he thinks I’ll just raise the baby all by myself?
“I decided I wanted you to be mine before I figured it out,” he states with a low rumble that sends goosebumps across my skin. His confidence wavers a little. “I am so sorry, Leila. When I saw you and Max, I thought you were at the hospital to say goodbye to me, and I just couldn’t cope with it. I should never have asked you to leave.”
“Oh Marcus, no—” I start, but he steals in close to me and silences me with a kiss. His hands find the back of my head, tangling in my hair and hold me tight. He kisses me like it might be the last time and it’s only then that I realise he hasn’t really worked out the full picture yet. He still thinks I might turn him away. Sinking into his embrace as my need for him takes over, a contented moan passes my lips. I have my mate back in my arms again. He tastes even better than I remember. This moment is perfect, I never want it to end. Just as I press my body to his, loving the feel of his hard body against my soft curves, he pulls away and jerks back, holding me at arm’s length.
“Shit, I shouldn’t have done that… just let me say what I have to say and if you want me to leave, that’s ok, I’ll go.” His chest is heaving as he drags in deep breaths. This looks like agony for him, and I try to put him out of his misery once more. I can see he has himself twisted up in knots.
“Marcus, listen to me…” I step towards him, but now he’s the one who’s fleeing from me. He dodges behind the couch, as if not trusting himself to be close to me while he tries to get out whatever it is he came here to say to me.
“Leila, I’m no good with words, and I’ll probably make a mess of this, but just hear me out. I want you to be mine, and I will be all yours, if you still want me? The night we met was amazing, and I think I knew even then there would be nobody else for me.” He sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “I love you, Leila Jones, and I’m sorry for what I have put you through.” Shaking his head in disgust at himself, he tugs at his hair with both hands.
“It’s ok—” I say, trying to reach out to him, but he shakes his head and cuts me off again.
“No, it’s not ok. I abandoned you during your heat. After taking your virginity. After the most magical night of my life.” He looks furious with himself. “I left you to deal with that, and whatever came after with your mate, all by yourself. It’s anything but ok. But if you’ll have me, I’m all in. I want you as my mate. And that little pup; I might not be the father, but I’ll be the best dad they could ever hope to have, if you’ll let me.”
He lifts his head and stares at me, raw emotion and vulnerability just pouring off him in waves. I forget to breathe for a second as I take in all that he has just said. He loves me, without knowing about the mate bond and feeling obligated to me. And even though he thinks this baby isn’t his, he doesn’t care. He wants us anyway. All I wanted was to know that he wasn’t just with me out of guilt. This is so much more than I ever dared hope for.
Worry flashes against his handsome face as he takes my silence for doubt.
“Please, Leila, let me make it up to you. Tell me it’s not too late.” He lowers his eyes when I still don’t speak for a second, and growls, twisting away from me roughly.
“FUCK!” he roars in frustration, pulling at his hair again and kicking out at a side table, sending it clattering to the ground.
“No Marcus, it’s not that…” I try to explain, but pain twists his features as he decides that I’m rejecting his offer, rejecting him. He clasps his hands on top of his head and turns away from me, tilting his face up towards the ceiling to hide his feelings from me. I can feel the hurt and regret radiating off him through the tenuous mate bond between us. Clambering over the back of the sofa, I grab him by the shoulders and spin him so I can look at his face. Placing my palms on either side of his face, I wait until he opens his eyes. He has to understand.
“I love you,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his gently, trying to calm the storm of emotions I can feel raging in him. “I love you Marcus, and I don’t need pretty words from you. The second you walked through that door, I was yours again.” I grab his hand in mine before bringing it to my lips and kiss his palm tenderly. He sighs in relief and all the tension just disappears from his body as he looks down at me with such relief and adoration that it’s overwhelming.
Pulling his hand down, I place his palm flat against my belly. He watches the movement and looks at our hands resting there, before lifting his eyes back to mine with a small smile pulling at his lips.
“And you are going to be the best dad ever,” I say, watching a shy grin creep across his face. “This little cub is so lucky.” He freezes as soon as I speak those words, eyes wide in wonder as it all clicks into place.
“Cub?” he whispers warily. “Did you say cub?” I can tell he’s too afraid to hope that what he thinks might be true.
“Cub,” I repeat, nodding, my eyes swimming with tears of happiness. “Or maybe a pup. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“It’s mine?” he asks, so quietly I can barely hear him. His mouth opens and closes as he reels from this new piece of information. His eyes shine with delight and wonder. “But we used protection?”
“You’re a bear, Marcus, and we damn near broke the bed. It wasn’t exactly gentle lovemaking. These things can happen.” I shrug and laugh a little, but then feel myself blush as my mind lingers on flashbacks of that night. Him pounding into me so hard that the bed was moving across the floor. It’s hardly shocking that the thing burst. I was sore for hours.
“I thought your mate must have come back… and it was my fault for leaving you like that, for not staying with you…” He shakes his head, relief clear in his eyes and I feel like crying for him, for the guilt he felt.
“No, Marcus. You are my mate. My fated mate,” I tell him, and I watch as he steps back to look at me in disbelief.
“What!? How? Why didn’t you tell me?” The poor guy, this is a lot to process in one go.
“You didn’t want me, or want us. I couldn’t trap you by telling you we were mates. You’d either be with me out of guilt or you’d…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words, but my face must say it all. Whenever I think about it, I remember Rex’s devastation and my heart aches for him.
“Oh Leila, you thought I’d reject you,” he whispers, pulling me to him and tucking my face into his neck. I say nothing, but my silence says it all. “Never. Do you hear me? Never would that have even occurred to me. I would have been thrilled. I am thrilled.”
He strokes up and down my back to calm my rapid heartbeat. Just getting that out in the open has lifted such a tremendous weight off my chest. The pressure of keeping all these secrets has been immense, and it’s only now that I appreciate just how much stress it has been causing me.
“You’re not mad?” I ask in a whisper and he leans back, using his index finger to tip my chin up so he can look me in the eye.
“I’ve never been happier in my life,” he says, and I know he means it. We stay there for a minute longer, just soaking it all in. Marcus finally knows he’s my mate, and he’s happy about it. He wants me and he wants our cub.
“What does your bear think?” I’m almost afraid to ask because my wolf is ecstatic, and I really don’t want to ruin her buzz by telling her that her mate’s animal isn’t keen.
“He’s a smug bastard. He reckons he marked you the second he put that cub in your belly, and the rest is just nonsense.” Marcus grins from ear to ear, and looks pretty chuffed with himself. He’s obviously loving the thought just as much as his bear, but is smart enough not to say it out loud.
I kind of love that idea too, that I’ve been his since that night. I’ll never admit it to him, though.
CHAPTER 39
LEILA
“You don’t have any shoes on,” I comment absentmindedly, but what really catches my attention is the thick bulge in the front of his black combats. I can feel his hard length where our bodies press together. The rustic one-roomed cabin I’m holed up in, which up to now had seemed quaint and cosy, suddenly feels tiny. Marcus fills the house with his alpha aura. He’s all I can focus on and I’m hyper-aware of every slight movement, every detail about him. That, and the bed that’s shoved in the corner of the room, which is calling out to me.
“I kind of left in a hurry,” he mutters. I can feel the heat radiating from his powerful body, and his masculine scent floods my senses. It swirls around me and makes me feel out of control. Like an addict who’d do anything for their next hit.
“So, what do we do now?” I ask, the need for my mate pulsing through my veins. He has to be able to smell it. My body has been crying out for him since the second I opened the door. He tilts his head slightly to the side, observing me. I watch the rise and fall of his chest as he takes even calm breaths. I wish I was that calm. He brushes a strand of my hair back from my face, running his fingers down the length of it. I notice the smattering of dark hairs on his tanned forearms. Veins bulge in his biceps as the muscles flex, stretching the dark grey t-shirt across his arms and shifting the thin material so it shows off his broad chest. It raises slightly at the waistband when he lifts his hand. I get a tantalising glimpse of his taut stomach before it drops back down and hides his abs from my view. I swallow hard and drag my gaze back up to his, unashamed at being caught blatantly checking him out. He is my mate, after all.
“That’s up to you, Leila,” he growls, cupping the nape of my neck with one giant hand. “If my pregnant mate needs her sleep, I’ll gladly tuck you into bed.”
“I’m feeling pretty rested, but I do like the sound of bed,” I admit with a saucy smile, staring into those sexy, dark eyes, which have changed now from warm brown to pitch black.
“Is that so?” His eyes crinkle in amusement as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers lightly up the side of my waist, brushing the side of my breast. Goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch, and I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation.
“Mmm-hmm,” I hum, and I lean forward ever so slightly, begging for him to bridge the gap between us and kiss me. My lips tingle in anticipation, but I don’t close the distance like an alpha female normally would. I’m curious and happy to let him take the lead this time, provided he doesn’t take too long. There’s no harm in letting him do some of the work, to show me just how sorry he is. I jumped him the last time, my heat pushing me to take control, but I’m one hundred percent certain that this is a man who likes to be in charge.
I shudder as he slowly kisses along my jaw and his breath tickles the sensitive skin on my neck. I shiver as he presses soft kisses to the spot behind my ear that turns my legs to jelly. Heat courses through my body and my heart races. I’m already a quivering mess when he licks and sucks at my marking spot, his other hand finding its way up underneath my t-shirt. He mutters a curse as his rough palm meets my bare, warm skin rather than a bra.
“Leila, don’t answer the door like this to anyone else ever again,” he orders, his gravelly voice deep and demanding as he cups me, taking the weight of my breast in his hand and massaging it gently. The sound of his voice vibrates through my body and I whimper, feeling myself becoming slick and ready for him. How is it possible for just a few whispered words in that sexy, deep voice to have such an effect on me?
His thumb swipes across my nipple, which is already straining against the thin material, and I push into his hand, aching for a firmer touch. When he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, the pleasure-pain combination sends a jolt of desire straight between my legs. My breathing becomes uneven, the air leaving my body in little gasps and pants as he torments me, playing my body like a fiddle.
I drag my fingers through his soft hair and tug hard, pulling him up to kiss me. I need it. This slow torture is too much. I’ve been without my mate for too long and my wolf is impatient to get what she wants. He gives me a lazy, knowing smile before leaning in to nip my bottom lip with his teeth, soothing it with a soft kiss.
“In a hurry, are we?” he chuckles. Smug bastard.
“Marcus, it’s been months. I can’t wait any longer,” I plead, rocking my hips against his massive thigh to get some sort of friction where I need it most.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, before taking my lips with a searing kiss that penetrates deep into my soul. I can feel him pouring every bit of emotion into the kiss. He’s worshipping me, telling me how much he loves me and how he’ll care for me with every gentle pass of his lips and teasing swipe of his tongue. He’s also showing me what he can do to me. How he can make my body sing for him.
His enormous hands grip me under each thigh and lift me. My legs automatically wrap around his thick waist. I press my hands to his chest and stroke over his big muscular pecs, over his broad shoulders, and down his back. I love touching him, being this close to him. It feels like such a gift after so long apart, after so long of wishing he could be mine.
My back hits the soft mattress as he lowers me down near the edge, and he stands slowly, reaching back to grip his shirt and pull it over his head with one hand. The sight of him shirtless has me squirming and I wriggle out of my own t-shirt to speed the process up. The man is sex on legs and I want him between mine as soon as possible.
Without breaking eye contact, he reaches down and tucks his thumbs into the waistband of my soft shorts. He edges them down slowly, and another low growl passes his lips when he realises I’m not wearing panties either.
“I like this. When we get home, you’re not allowed to wear underwear in the house ever again,” he orders as he yanks them down my legs and tosses them somewhere behind him. I blush as he breathes deep, taking in the obvious scent of my arousal. “Amazing. It’s better this time, now that I know it’s all for me and not just your heat.”
“It was always you, Marcus. I’ve wanted you ever since we met. I’ve never even thought of anyone else like this. You’re my first everything,” I whisper, my cheeks getting warm with embarrassment at that admission.
“Never?” He leans down over me, his large body presses me into the bed, but he keeps his full weight off me by raising up on one forearm. Gripping my chin in one hand, he forces me to look at him.
“Never Marcus,” I confirm. “Every dream, every time I…” I blush again and he takes my mouth in a savage kiss. This one isn’t about love, it’s about possession. His bear’s desire to know he’s the only male in my life after wrongly thinking I was giving myself to another.
“Your last sweetheart,” he mumbles, and it takes my addled brain a second to catch up with the conversation. “I’m honoured to have been your first. It makes me proud as punch, but being your last matters so much more to me.”
My heart swells because I feel the same. I know I’m not his first, but I don’t care. He’s here with me, he wants me. Nobody else. That’s what’s important. Not whatever has come before.
He peppers my body with sensual kisses as he drifts lower. My chest, my breasts, my stomach, my hips. As he moves down along the crease at the top of my thigh, jolts of electricity have me squirming and my pussy clenching. I nearly jump off the bed when I feel the wet heat of his mouth on me and his tongue lapping at my sensitive clit. He brings me to the brink over and over with long, hard licks and rhythmic tugs with his lips, before backing off and teasing my empty pussy by swiping and circling just inside me with one finger at first and then two. But it’s not enough. I feel like crying in frustration when he goes back to sucking at my clit and licking, circling with his tongue.
I hear the sheets rip as my claws come out and I grip them tightly in my fists. I writhe and moan beneath him as he gives me so much pleasure that I don’t know what to do with myself. He’s dominating me, showing me who’s in charge, and what he can do to me.
“Marcus, please, please…” I beg. I need him to let me go over the edge. I can’t take it anymore.
