sensitive after the vigorous first rutting.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. Capturing my chin in his hand, he tips my face toward his.
I shake my head.
“Jessa?”
The warning is back. It stung a small amount, and I think I might have winced. He is not moving, but at least he has not pulled out. I wrap my arms and legs around him just to be sure.
“It only stung a little,” I say.
“I think you need to rest,” he says. “Your mother, in all her wisdom, is bound to have left some oils as might ease the soreness.”
My pussy grips, and my arms and legs tighten when he tries to pull out.
“Don’t,” I beg. “It was only a little sore when you first pushed in. It does not even hurt now.”
“I don’t fucking believe you,” he says on a groan. “But your clenching pussy is a test. I will go slowly if you promise to tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Okay,” I agree. I dare not tell him that I like the soreness in the same way I like the sting when he spanks my bottom. Goddess, thinking about him spanking me while his hard length is inside me, deep and so intimate, is enough to make me… I come. It sideswipes me out of nowhere.
His lips crash over mine in a hungry kiss that makes the pleasure twist higher still. His hips begin to move, his hot flesh surging in over and over.
He purr-growls as he ruts me with agonizing gentleness. My body is in a state of euphoria. His lips, his hands, his hot male flesh, his growly sounds of pleasure, they belong to me and me alone. I sink into the sensations and into him. I feel his love wrap around me. I sense his devotion and caring with every tempered stroke. He is a strong male capable of rutting me harder and being rougher, but he puts my newness above his own pleasure.
I wish he wouldn’t. But I love him all the deeper that he does.
The next climax takes us both, dizzying, blissful. It sweeps my whole body up. Deep inside, he fills me again.
Tears spring from my eyes, and he presses kisses to my cheeks, begging me to tell him what is wrong.
“Nothing,” I say, fighting to stop the torrent, for I know I am upsetting him. “I am so Goddess-blessed to be here with you, Brandon. I’m just overwhelmed with joy and love.”
“I too, Jessa,” he says. “I have been through hell this last night and day since I found out you were taken. The thought of losing you, too painful to bear. You disarm me with your ways, both the lusty ones that make my cock hard and the sweet loving ones that care deeply for those lucky enough to have you within their circle. The man in me wants to wed you before our village and family. But the wolf in me has already claimed you as a mate.”
Nestling his face into the crook of my shoulder, he presses a kiss. “Right here, I will mark you. Not today, but soon.” Lifting his head, he meets my eyes. “If it fades, I shall mark you again. You are mine, Jessa. My wolf has claimed you. I have claimed you. Until the Goddess takes one of us into the afterworld, you are mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gage
“WHAT IS THAT?” I ask, frowning at the cloth-covered basket Pete has placed upon the great oak table of the hall.
Beyond the open double doors, the villagers return in a rag-tag procession, complete with goats, chickens, and… a herd of pigs. The village is decimated. Half the buildings will need substantial repairs. While others are ruined and will need to be torn down.
I dare say we are less in number now and will not need so many homes.
“A kitten,” Pete says. “Last of the litter. The rest have been homed.”
“And this is the pressing issue of the moment?” I ask, wondering if Pete has taken a blow to the head.
“My mate gave it to me,” he says, face coloring even as he scowls. “You know the ways of womenfolk at times. She thought it might give you something to…” he trails off under my censorious glare. “Its mother is a good mouser. It’ll keep the rats and mice at bay.”
Now I am a fucking charity case. The womenfolk will be fussing over me and seeking to find me a mate before the stain of my father’s blood can be washed