She would have chided him for his arrogance, but could find no breath for words. Not with him standing so close, his sex already hard and kissing her stomach with moisture.
She was a shifter and though she had more modesty than most, she was accustomed to nudity for the shift. But this nakedness with him was different.
It made her feel things her body had not yet experienced, though her eagle told her they were right and true. She wanted to touch, to be touched.
She wanted to join with him as she’d been certain she would never join with another. The thought of her father’s reaction to her mating a wolf came forth to bedevil her, but for the first time in five years the thought of disappointing him was less important than the happiness flickering to life inside her.
And yet, she said, “My father—”
“Has given us his blessing, grudging though it is. If I hurt you, he will dismember me. It was a vow.”
She nodded, unexpected joy surging through her. “My mother believes us to be true mates.”
“She is a wise woman.”
“Aye.”
“The time for talking is past.” His words came out strained and tight and the hardness standing sentinel between them shifted against her skin, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake.
She reached down and ran her fingertip through the viscous fluid. Though her senses were not as sharp as a wolf’s in this regard, the scent of him still drove her near to her knees.
Her eagle cried out to be claimed.
She brought her finger to her mouth, tasting his essence with a delicate lick of her tongue.
Bryant’s eyes flared with passion and a growl sounded from his throat before he yanked her to him, stealing the salty flavor from her tongue and replacing it with the sweetness that was his mouth. The kiss was incendiary, beyond anything they had shared in the spirit realm.
The sensations in the flesh were more acute, sharp with pleasure so great she moaned against his lips entirely wantonly.
His hands roamed over her body; everywhere the wolf had scented, Bryant now touched, making her his before he ever joined their bodies as one.
Spots that had been ticklish before now buzzed with delight at each caress, enhancing her arousal until even she could smell the scent of her body’s preparation for him.
One big hand slid between her legs, masculine fingers delving into flesh that had never been touched. Even by her.
The ecstasy was so immense, her strength gave out. He held her up with no evidence of effort, his muscular arm locked tight around her while his hand touched her most intimate flesh in secret and surely forbidden ways.
It felt too good to be proper behavior.
But then she was an Éan . . . propriety meant little to her people.
This delight, however? It was something too amazing to ever do without again.
Oh, that the Creator would not let her have to do without it again.
The arm holding her up shifted, and suddenly his fingertip was between her nether cheeks, teasing at flesh she never would have suspected had so much feeling.
She tore her mouth from his. “Bryant!”
“Aye, lass?”
“You . . . that . . .”
“Nothing is forbidden between mates.”
Her head came forward, her mouth settling against the join of his neck and shoulder. “Mates,” she whispered before biting him in a way meant to leave a mark.
His entirely masculine groan of appreciation shivered through her, making her thighs clench. “I thought only wolves bit to mark their mates.”