Hailee’s POV
His warm seed filled , and there was no sensation more intoxicating than that. Nathan, whose eyes were still storm-gray, kept thrusting into , but this ti, it was slow, deep, and unbearably passionate, as though he wanted to brand every inch of from the inside out. I moaned softly, my body still trembling from the aftershocks, every nerve in sensitive to the way he moved. The heat of him, the weight of him, the way his chest pressed to mine—it was all too much and not nearly enough.
His hand slid up my side, fingers splaying possessively over my ribs before cupping my face again. He kissed , slower this ti, tender yet full of that sa desperate claim, like he couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting who I belonged to.
"You feel perfect," he whispered against my lips, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "Like you were made to take ... to keep ."
A shiver ran through at his words, and my hips tilted instinctively, drawing another deep thrust from him that made my toes curl. He groaned, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath hot against my skin.
"I’m not pulling out," he said, almost like a vow. "I want it to stay in you. I want you to feel ... long after this."
My breath caught, the idea sending another wave of heat through . "Nathan..." I breathed, my voice shaking.
His thumb brushed my lower lip before he kissed again, slower, deeper, until my chest ached. Each thrust was deliberate now, dragging out the pleasure until my body was lting beneath him.
"I’m yours," I whispered again, my hands tangling in his hair. "Always."
Nathan’s eyes flashed briefly, silver bleeding into the gray, and his thrusts grew just a little deeper, a little harder, making gasp.
He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then lower, murmuring between kisses, "Mine... my mate... my Hailee."
I gasped. Did he just call his mate? The word echoed in my head, confusing , but before I could speak, Nathan moved.
In one fluid motion, he shifted us, his hands guiding onto my side before he slid in behind , his chest pressed to my back. His arm curled around my waist, holding close as his other hand gripped my thigh and lifted my leg high, opening to him in a way that made my breath hitch.
The change in angle was imdiate—sudden, overwhelming. His cock pushed into deeper than before, so deep I felt stretched to the edge of my limits. I gasped, my voice breaking with the sharp mix of pleasure and pain.
He stilled instantly, his lips brushing my ear. "Hailee... fuck, are you okay?" His voice was tight, worried, even as his chest rose and fell against .
I shook my head—not in refusal, but in need—and reached behind to grip his hip. "Don’t stop," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Please... just fuck , Nathan."
Sothing in him broke at that. He groaned low and deep, his breath hot against my neck as he began to move again—slow at first, then harder, the deep thrusts forcing small, helpless cries from my lips.
Every stroke hit that spot inside that made my legs twitch and my toes curl. His grip on my thigh tightened, keeping open for him, his hips rolling with a deliberate rhythm that left gasping into the pillow.
The pain began to lt into sothing else—sothing hotter, sharper, more consuming. My fingers clutched at the sheets, my body trembling as each deep thrust pushed closer to that unbearable edge.
"God, Hailee..." he groaned, burying his face in my hair. "You feel so good like this. So tight, so fucking perfect for ."
My head fell back against his shoulder, my voice breaking into moans that matched the pace of his hips. The angle made every movent a raw, searing pleasure, and I knew I wasn’t going to last.
Nathan’s thrusts grew sharper, his grip on my thigh tight as he drove into , the slick sound of our bodies eting filling the air. My breaths ca in ragged gasps, my skin damp with heat, and my body wound impossibly tight around him.
Then I felt it—his teeth grazing my neck.
It wasn’t a mistake. It was deliberate. My heart lurched, and every muscle in my body tensed, not in fear... but in approval. I knew what this ant. I knew what would happen if he bit .
And instead of pulling away, I tilted my head, baring my throat to him.
A guttural sound tore from his chest, his breath hot against my skin. His hips faltered for a split second, his wolf so close to taking over that I could feel the vibration of his growl against my pulse.
I wanted him to do it. I wanted to feel the mark burn into , to be his in every way that mattered. But he—sohow—held himself back.
"Hailee..." he rasped, his voice torn between desire and restraint. His thrusts grew erratic, harder, deeper, like he was pouring every ounce of his restraint into his hips instead of his teeth.
The tension snapped inside . My cry ripped through the room as my body clamped around him, the release crashing through so hard I shook. His na spilled from my lips, over and over, as the pleasure dragged under.
Nathan groaned like he was breaking apart with , his hips slamming into mine once, twice, before he released his cum inside again and then he pulled out with a shudder, spilling his remaining seed across my lower belly. His head dropped to my shoulder, his breathing harsh and ragged, his body trembling against mine.
For a long mont, neither of us moved. The air between us was thick with the scent of sex and heat.
Then Nathan shifted, his body still trembling, and pulled into his arms. His chest pressed firmly against my back as if he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between us. One arm wrapped around my waist, the other sliding under my head, cradling like sothing precious.
His scent surrounded , warm and comfortable, his heartbeat pounding steady and strong against my spine. I could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, the leftover shivers from his release, but his hold on was strong—as though letting go wasn’t an option.
"Mine," he murmured into my hair, his lips brushing my temple. The word was soft but absolute, carrying the weight of a promise and a claim he had yet to seal.
I curled closer instinctively, my hand resting over his arm, where it held tight. His thumb brushed lazy circles against my skin, not out of impatience but as if to remind he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.
The room was silent except for our breathing—slowly syncing. My body was exhausted, my mind hazy, but in his arms, I felt... anchored.
Nathan pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, lingering there, inhaling deeply like he wanted my scent etched into his soul. "You’re not leaving , Hailee," he whispered, the edge of possessiveness in his tone making my chest tighten. "Ever."
I swallowed hard at his words, trying not to let the lump in my throat show. His arms felt so good around , warm and safe, like maybe I could stay here forever.
But I couldn’t.
I let my eyes close, breathing him in, holding on to the steady beat of his heart against my back. I wanted to rember it—him—just like this.
Tomorrow, I’d be gone.
And I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel when he realized I’d left. Would he be angry? Hurt? Would he even understand why?
The thought made my chest ache, but I stayed still in his arms, pretending—just for tonight—that I wasn’t going anywhere.
His thumb stopped moving against my skin, his chest tightening against my back. For a heartbeat, he just breathed in like he was morizing the mont. Then, softly but with a strange tone, he said, "Hailee... I need to tell you sothing."
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