Wilder's Mate by Moira Rogers Page A

around him. “Pull me in, sweetheart. That’s it.” She dug one heel into his back, urging him to move. She felt more tightly wound than a crossbow string, but he was implacable. The only recourse she had was words. “Please, it’s better than anything else.
    I—I need more. Please, give me more.”
    Finally, he did. He eased away and drove against her with a groan. “Fuck, yes.” No pain now, just beautiful friction. She pressed her open mouth to his cheek and his jaw, kissing anywhere she could reach as she fell into him. “More of you. I need all of you.” It freed something in him, unleashed a flood of desire that he rained down on her with long thrusts and his lips on her skin. Fierce. Untamed.
    But still careful. With her pulse pounding in her ears and his claiming trembling through her, she was painfully aware of how easily he could have hurt her. That his grip could have shattered bone, that the need inside him was so vast he could leave her broken.
    She wasn’t frightened. He surrounded her, filled her, took her higher with every moment—and when pleasure crested with an intensity close to pain, she felt safe coming apart. Felt safe crying out, letting his name leave her lips again and again as she dug her fingernails into his shoulder and held on to the only solid thing in her world.
    He whispered, the words too low and scattered for her to hear. His hips pumped faster, and he kissed her once, then held her gaze. “Again.”
    Dark. He was so dark, his eyes swallowed by the beast. Maybe another woman would have feared it, but Satira closed her fingers around his rigid biceps and felt her own power. He was desperate for her pleasure, fixated on it.
    As much as she needed him, he needed her so much more.
    Satira lifted her chin, offering her throat to him. “Help me.” He bit her hard, with an almost savage growl. His rhythm faltered and resumed, faster. Frenzied.
    “Satira—”
    “I—I need—” There . A tiny shift of her hips and everything tilted sideways. “You,” she gasped, as climax consumed her.
    60
    www.samhainpublishing.com

    Wilder’s Mate
    He howled with triumph, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he coaxed her through the orgasm with slow, firm thrusts and grinned when she whimpered her disbelief at feeling him still hard and ready inside her.
    “That’s a start, sweetheart.”
    A start.
    For one moment, fear tightened its fist around her heart, and she closed her eyes to prevent him from seeing it. She’d been a fool to think she understood, to imagine a bloodhound in the grip of the new moon was nothing more than a particularly lusty man. This was magic, pure and simple, the sort her analytical mind had always shied away from.
    I won’t be enough— The traitorous thought struggled to rise, and she rejected it. Magic or not, hound or not, it was Wilder above her, a man she craved with everything she was.
    She didn’t need to be enough , and opening her eyes confirmed it. Hunger was there, and need, but something deeper stared out from his wild gaze. Something that made her heart leap. In this moment, she wasn’t just enough.
    She was everything.
    Moving slowly, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, smoothing her fingers along bunching muscles as she returned his smile. “Take me higher.”
    He did.

    The hours were a blur of skin and sex.
    Wilder traced his hand over the curve of Satira’s hip and drew her closer, until he had her ass nestled against him. “Like this?”
    She trembled, her breath coming in tiny, hitching gasps. “Oh—oh yes. It’s—it’s…” He gritted his teeth and eased deeper, until the slick head of his cock breached the impossibly tight ring of muscle. He had to go slowly, carefully introduce her to this new sensation.
    “ Wilder— ” So tight, but she was eager too, damn near vibrating with indecision as her hips moved in small jerks—first away, like it was too much, then back, taking him deeper as if she couldn’t get enough.
    He pressed