Page 110 of Shifters Reckoning

He anchored me in place.

And we had weeks before Acheron forced us to prove it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

logan

Six-Mile Manor

The storm and the anchor.

Her words reverberated in my head as I buried my dick inside her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, drawing me in. Our mate bed. Our forever. We were everything.

Lightning flashed outside our bedroom window, and thunder rolled through the earth and shook the manor. Or maybe it was our magics coming together, mixing, uniting, stronger than ever before.

She flared bright enough to throw our shadows on the ceiling, and the rainbow tattoo on her hip glowed like an ember. My Emma. I gripped her thighs and rocked my pelvis back and forth slowly, teasing her to the edge. I reached between us and stroked her clit.

“Logan,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.” She dragged her fingernails down my back and tipped her head back, exposing her neck.

I was no longer terrified of being too little alpha for her. Linking in the relic room proved I could hold her at full power and not lose her and not be lost.

But that was tomorrow’s comfort.

Tonight, I had a woman shaking and gasping beneath me with firelight in her wrecked rainbow hair.

Adjusting her on the bed, I withdrew long enough to bring my legs over hers, straddling her.

More. All of you. More. Gripping myself, I guided my dick back between her folds, into her depths. Then I caught her wrists and pressed them into the mattress on either side of her head.

“Logan.” Yes, yes, yes. Please.

Emma Carter surrendering was no small feat. She’d spent weeks forcing me behind a wall, and here she was, under my hands with nothing between us.

“Look at me,” I commanded her.

Her eyes fluttered open. Those emerald eyes…

Thrusting deliberately, I took my time about pleasing her. The first round had been hers, fast and needful, and this one was going to be mine, and mine meant slow. Mine meant thorough. Mine meant I was going to relearn every inch I’d starved for through days of a bond gone dark.

I kissed her as though I had all the time in the world even though nobody in Louisiana had less time than the two of us. Her mouth. The line of her jaw. The pulse in her throat hammered under my lips, alive, alive, alive.

I love you forever.

Forever and always. I was a man who’d died once and gotten dragged back from death by her, and I hadn’t once since been able to touch her without saying a small prayer of thanks for it.

Lower…

The scar-free stretch of her collarbone. The soft weight of her breasts. I set my teeth to her nipples, and her breath caught. She clawed at my shoulders. The rainbow tattoo on her hip glowed brighter now. I dragged my tongue over the colors, and she arched off the quilt. Her mewling sound went straight down my spine.

Logan. She pushed my name across the open bond, half pleading and half warning.

Patience, love. I grinned against her hip. You told me to quit admiring the fire. I’m admiring you instead. Different job.

I will end you⁠—

You keep threatening that. I moved lower, hooked her knees over my shoulders, and brought my mouth to her center. Do it, then.

She writhed and gripped the sheets. “Logan!”