Misty lost her smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s supposed to be me saying that.” Graham nipped her chin. “I want to do everything with you, love. I want you to suck my cock. I want to drink you. I want you riding me, and looking at me with your beautiful eyes when you do it. I want you on your hands and knees, like in your garden, in the moonlight. I want to be in you, buried there, and not come out. I want it all.”
Warm excitement built. “I can go for that.” Misty pressed her hand to his chest. “But not until you’re well.”
“I’m well. I’m with my mate.” Graham clasped her hand, pressing it harder into his chest. “And I have the mate bond. It’s hot inside me, connecting me to you. Can you feel it too?”
The look he gave her was so hopeful, so utterly raw, no barriers between them, that Misty’s eyes stung. “I feel warmth right here.” She pressed his hand between her br**sts. “I feel happy whenever I see you, even when you’re yelling. I love looking at you, and watching you look at me as though you want to devour me. I feel lighter whenever you’re around me. I told you in the cave that I loved you, and why. Want me to tell you again?”
“I heard you,” Graham said. “Even that far gone, I heard you.” He touched his lips to hers, the kiss the gentlest brush. “It brought me back to you.”
“Graham.” Misty loved saying his name. She laced her hand behind his head, rubbing his short hair, and made the next kiss deeper. She loved doing that too.
Graham opened her mouth with his kiss, brushing her cheek with his thumb. His body came hard against hers, pressing her back into the wall.
When Graham broke the kiss and looked down at her, the tenderness had left him. “I’m done being nice.” The strength and the savage growl had returned to his voice. “Can you take that?”
Excited heat spun through her. “I think so.”
“Better know so.” Graham took a step back and flashed her his most wicked smile. “Run, sweetheart. I want to hunt.”
Misty’s eyes widened. Graham’s little growl made her heart flutter and then beat very fast.
Misty turned and ran, but not out of the house. Graham caught her when she was halfway up the stairs. Then her shorts were yanked down, her shirt wrenched off, and Graham was on top of her. He growled as he slid inside her, taking her with hard, merciless thrusts. All the while he cradled Misty in his arms so she wouldn’t be hurt on the uncarpeted stairs.
Misty met his thrusts with her own. It was a fierce, wild coupling, and Misty wanted it. Wanted more. Mating frenzy didn’t happen only to Shifters.
“I love you,” Graham said, his voice the gravelly rumble she adored. “Mate of my heart.”
“I love you too,” Misty whispered, then she yelled it, her voice echoing up and down the stairs. “I love you, Graham McNeil! Mate of my heart.”
Graham made a noise in his throat, and the emptiness that she’d always seen in his eyes fled. The light in them warmed, flared, then was drowned by a sudden wash of tears.
Graham’s mouth came down on her in a savage kiss, one that held both his fierceness and his love. He protected her with strong arms while he kissed her and sought his pleasure, and he gave her pleasure back threefold.
Misty traced his flame tattoos, which danced and swirled like the fires in her heart.