Page 90 of Wolves’ Witch

“Aubert, please.”

He groaned and dipped his head into the crook of her neck, striving for calm. She nuzzled his neck too, and his wolf stilled in his mind, waiting, hoping. His wolf was a bigger fool than he. She was not going to—

Isobella latched on to his shoulder, sinking her teeth in deep.

She claimed me. Marked me as hers.

Aubert threw back his head and howled, and as he voiced his joy, his triumph, as his wolf surged forward, his control snapped. The moment she retracted her teeth, he ripped through her chemise with his claws, shredding it. He flipped her over and dragged her pert bottom into the air. He had a moment of sanity, where his human mind tried to reassert itself, where he questioned his actions, what he was about to do. How he was about to do it.

“Don’t you dare back out now. I want this. Please.” She waggled her pretty pussy at him. “Take me, Aubert. Make me yours.”

He tore through the laces on his breeches and freed his aching cock. Hands on her hips, keeping her in place, he lined himself up and thrust. Her hoarse cry went straight to his testicles.

He was inside her. His mate.

Her channel fluttered around his cock and Aubert closed his eyes, imagining his weapons, his swords, his daggers. Bringing them to mind, one by one, focusing on their blades, their hilts, counting them. He could not—he refused to—come before she did. The man and the animal inside him demanded it.

When he had his body under some semblance of control, when he was certain he would not come with the slightest twitch from her, he rolled his hips.

She whimpered. “Yes.”

He did it again, then slid out, unhurried, each painstaking inch bliss beyond comparison, before slamming back in. And again. Slow at first, then faster, as she met him thrust for thrust. Her breathy moans and the slap of flesh filled the room, the air thick with the aroma of sex. If there truly was a heaven, Aubert had found it. His grip tightened on her hips as he took her, pushing them both closer to the edge.

Pleasure ripped up his spine. He held on, gritting his teeth. He almost lost his mind. Then she was tightening around him, shouting, calling his name. He let go, thrusting into her once, twice more and he threw his body over hers, opened his mouth and latched on to her shoulder as his own release ripped through him.

She screamed, and her channel clamped around him like a vise. By the Fates. He had never… In his mind, his wolf howled, his canines buried in her shoulder, her sweet blood in his mouth. She shook beneath him as her orgasm fluttered to life again, wringing more cries from her. Everyone in the keep would know they were fucking, but Aubert did not care. She was his. He was hers. That was all that mattered.

He retracted his teeth and licked the wound. She would heal. The mark would be gone by the morrow, but a part of him was in her now. They were connected.

Shaking, he collapsed on the bed and pulled her with him. Her dark nipples and heavy breasts heaved as she fought to catch her breath. His beautiful mate. He tucked her head against his chest, letting loose a satisfied rumble. More than satisfied. Content. In a way he had never thought possible.

Isobella’s eyes closed, and, exhausted, she drifted off to sleep.

Aubert pulled her in tight against him and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I have fallen in love with you, too, sweet Bella.”

* * * *

Edmond stood outside Isobella’s bedchamber. He had been prepared to lock them in there together for days, but there had been no need. Aubert loved her as much as he did. Now Isobella knew it, too.

He grinned, then entered the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Isobella slept, curled up in Aubert’s arms. He shared a look with his twin, an understanding, then stripped off his clothes and slipped beneath the covers to cuddle their mate between them.

The rightness of it, the three of them together, seeped into his bones, but there was only one problem. “I think we are going to need to build a bigger bed.”