Page 122 of Shifted Desire

Samantha huffs, but as soon as I put some oil on my hands and being my massage she relents.

Savoring each small sigh and moan, I take my time loosening up her sore muscles, gentle as I get to the bruised areas until the deep purple fades before my eyes as the oil works its magic.

“Leave the ones on my hips,” she murmurs drowsily.

“Huh?”

“Your marks. I like them. I want them as a reminder of how it felt to be so thoroughly claimed as yours.”

“Fuck.” My simmering lust reaches a boil, and I slick my dick with more of the oil. “You sure you want me inside you?”

She nods into the pillow, but doesn’t move.

With her legs closed, it’s tricky to line myself up properly, but when the head of my dick finally presses in an inch, we both moan.

I stroke her back, working my length inside her in slow, shallow motions until she’s moaning, then pressing deeper, using my dick to massage the spots inside her that make her gasp and flutter around me.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes. You feel so perfect inside me.”

I drape myself over her prone form so I can suck her bond mark, lazily thrusting until she comes apart with a relieved sigh. I follow her over the edge, resisting the urge to knot her in case that’s too much, and pouring out into her as I murmur my adoration.

“Mmm, love you,” she murmurs, and I realize a few seconds later she’s fallen asleep.

A primal part of me is beyond pleased that I helped my mate’s pain enough that she’s so relaxed. She’s well-fed and well-fucked and now she’s resting safe in my bed.

More content than I’ve ever been, like the weight of the world has finally been lifted off my shoulders, I allow myself to rest too.

EPILOGUE

Two months later

Gathering up my nerve, I knock on the familiar cherry red door. Usually I’d barge in with no such niceties, but tonight is different. There’s a handsome werewolf beside me, holding my hand like it’s his lifeline, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple despite the chill autumn breeze.

“We’ve got this,” I murmur under my breath, and Nathan squeezes my hand, a thrum of his appreciation and love in our mate bond.

When no one immediately comes to answer the door, Nathan’s shoulders droop. “Do you think they’re not going to let me in?”

I snort. “Give them a second. Mom told me she was looking forward to seeing both of us at the Samhain celebration. When she said your name, Dad barely flinched.”

Truth be told, I’m nervous too. Not about them letting us in, but about how things will go. We haven’t all been together in the same room as my family since the wedding. Nathan had a very long lunch a few weeks ago with my dad to “hash things out”, and I’ve been back to the house once a week to pack up my stuff slowly and sneak it over to Nathan’s loft. But this is a whole ass family gathering on an important holiday. I don’t want to taint their decades of fond Samhain memories with the tension, but I also can’t stand the idea of Nathan missing it.

So here we are, awkwardly waiting for someone to answer the damn door.

“Come on, what the hell are you doing?” I grumble, rapping the bronze knocker more emphatically.

Nathan leans down and kisses my cheek, his hint of stubble brushing against my cheek in the way I adore. It’s ridiculous how many little things I’ve found to love about this man. My past self would’ve rolled her eyes so hard at how besotted I am, and warned me not to get so attached. If I could talk to her, I’d give her a hug and tell her, in the most loving way, to shut the fuck up.

The door swings open and Nathan jolts away as if he'd been caught copping a feel instead of giving my cheek a chaste kiss.

“Why the hell are you knocking?” Max asks, pushing his shaggy red waves out of his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t cut it since the wedding, which I guess tracks since he and Mona have been busy off on their whirlwind honeymoon and riding the newlywed high.

“Excuse me for trying to be polite when I bring my new partner over for the first time,” I huff.

My brother’s annoyed expression softens. “Oh. But he’s not a stranger. He’s our un—” Max clears his throat. “He’s our good family friend.”

“Am I still?” Nathan asks with a sheepish smile.