Southern Shifters: Bite Me (A Bad Boy Shifter Romance) (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Lillian Dante (6)

I now pronounce you husband and wife.

It's over so damn quick, and I'm still crawling out of my skin. Kane officiates in some kind of town hall, built out of rough hewn logs and reeking of cedar. Two of his lackeys act as witnesses, signing the official paperwork that'll be submitted to the human authorities, so even they will recognize our union. Since we've both got identities already in that world, it's best to make sure our union is official everywhere. There's no telling how Douglas Mountain will try to verify it.

You may kiss the bride.

It's awkward as hell, with all those feline pupils fixed on me. But the minute her lips touch mine, I forget everything else.

The room's empty. It's just us. I know it's a dumb cliche, but that's really how it feels. Her arms encircle my neck, holding on tight.

I feel so goddamn lucky. For the first time in my life, in this situation I didn't ask for, this trap that was laid before either one of us was even born...I feel like I won the damn lottery.

That's it. I've lost my mind. And I'm surprisingly okay with it.

Kane's voice cuts through the fog. "You may now get a room. God."

Laughing, we break apart. Livvy's smile, her true smile, is so infectious. I can't stop grinning as she pulls me out the huge double doors and leads me to her little house across the road, which I am sure is very nice and lovely and well-appointed, and whatever else people say about houses. But all I can see is her.

My heart thuds in my chest so loud I'm sure the whole town can hear it.

She fumbles with her key in the door, cursing softly. Before the wedding, she found the time to take a quick shower and change into a breezy white dress, knee-length, which skims over her gorgeous ass like a dream.

My new bride got ready in such a hurry, her hair's still a little bit damp. I don't know why, but that little fact makes my dick twitch.

Once she's managed to push the door open, I don't waste any time. I pull her close as she laughs, breathlessly, and I kick the door shut behind me.

"Careful," she giggles. "I really like that door. It's antique."

"Maybe I'll fuck you up against it later." I take a break from nuzzling her neck when I feel the heat of her skin, indicating that I've actually made her blush.

"Oh," she gasps, as I grab a handful of her ass and pull her hard against me. I know she can feel my length against her soft thigh, such a perfect contrast.

This is the first time I've really gotten a chance to enjoy her body. That hurried, furtive night in the truck wasn't nearly enough. I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of her, but I'll damn sure try.

Her soft, ample curves feel so perfect against my taut muscles and hard edges. I've always liked her type, but she takes it to a whole new level. 

Even without her intoxicating scent, I'd want her more than any other woman I've met.

I wish I could take my time. Really savor her, spend hours teasing her and skimming my fingers and lips all over her body until she's hoarse from begging for more. I want to study her naked, say filthy things to her and watch what other parts of her body can blush. One of these days, I'll make her bend over and tell her what a bad girl she's been, smack her ass until the wetness trickles down her open thighs.

Heels. She'll be in red heels, black garters, fishnets, and nothing else.

Yes. Perfect.

But right now, there's no time for costumes or props or playful punishments. There's the animal instinct to mate, and it's quickly overpowering everything else.

My fingers brush against the hem of her dress, tugging it upwards. She lifts her arms above her head, eyes falling closed.

No panties. I'd suspected, hoped, but I couldn't be sure until now.

Letting the dress fall, I grasp her by the hips and turn her around. With my dick pressed up against her ass, it's all I can do to stop myself from grinding out the release I'm so desperate for. But that's not how I want it. That's not what I need.

I let my hand slip under her dress again, slide around to the front of her body and dip between her thighs. Her breath catches in her throat.

"Oh, God," she whispers. "Nolan..."

She's hotter than coal embers. Her pussy is bloomed open for me, begging to be filled.

Fuck. I can't wait any more.

With a snarl, I yank the dress over her head. Thanks to the full-length mirror across the room, I can get a good look at her magnificent body without losing any precious time. 

I need to be inside her. Need it more than air. Blood pounds in my head, in my cock, every heartbeat demanding the same thing.

Take. Claim. Bite. Mate. Fill.

This probably isn't the proper way to do things. Our wedding night - first of all, shouldn't be happening in the afternoon. Second of all, it should probably take place in a bed.

Fuck 'proper.'

"Please," she whines, softly.

I push her forward, guiding her hands to grip the back of the sofa. I tear off my t-shirt and unbutton my jeans, pushing them down just enough to free my aching cock.

"Please, please, please," she keeps on whispering, back arched, legs spread, presenting herself for the taking. Letting me see, without any shyness or shame, exactly how much she wants me.

Will she be like this when she's not in heat? I don't know, and I don't care. 

The sound of blood rushing in my ears is almost deafening. If I don't shoot my come deep inside her before long, I think I might actually die.

This is what keeps us alive. The drive that ensures our survival. It's stupid and insane to be so intimate with another person, to trust them to help raise your own flesh and blood. You can never really know somebody well enough for that.

And so. Nature made it so we can't help ourselves. We want it. We need it.

The head of my cock presses against her molten heat, and a moment later I'm inside her.

With a deep groan, she clutches the sofa-back so hard that her knuckles go white. I grit my teeth. It's almost impossible not to start thrusting hard and fast, giving into the primal need. I have to come. My whole body's shaking with the need. 

But there's something else stronger. I have to satisfy her. It's my duty as her mate, as her alpha. 

So in spite of the tight, intoxicating heat of her body, despite the way her inner muscles grip at me and try to milk me dry, I don't come. I rock my hips faster and faster, until I'm thrusting so deep inside her that she cries out with every movement. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, and her whole body's bucking with the force of my thrusts.

But I still don't come.

I don't come until the edges of her voice have gone rough, until her wetness coats my legs. Until she's spent, exhausted, her pussy only twitching with aftershocks of climax after climax.

Then, and only then, I feel it gather in my balls, rushing up my cock and seizing every muscle in my body. 

Everything bursts into white-hot pleasure. I'm pretty sure I roar her name.

It's only afterwards I notice the little changes. A little bit of fur on my arms, my claws just starting to poke out. And my teeth feel a little sharp. The whole thing was just too powerful for my human side; the animal had to come to the surface.

Panting, Livvy finally allows her knees to buckle beneath her. She crumples to the floor, shuddering all over.

I'm feeling just about as drained as she looks, but it's not time to collapse yet. She needs me still.

With my last burst of strength, I reach down and pick her up. Her eyes pop open in surprise.

It occurs to me, probably no man has ever carried her before. There's a flash of anger for a second, before I realize it doesn't matter. I'm here now. I'll carry her into bed every night, if she wants.

"Nolan..."

I hardly recognize her voice. She sounds so peaceful, so satisfied. 

There's a warm glow in my chest. 

"Baby?" 

It's the first time I've called her that. Seems like a good enough place to start.

She giggles softly. "I hate that word."

"Sorry."

"No. It's okay." She half-opens her eyes. "For you, I'll allow it."

"Well, that's awfully nice of you." 

Gently, I set her down on the bed and pull back the covers.

"Not bedtime yet," she mutters, holding back a yawn. 

"I think we could both use some rest," I tell her, climbing in after her. Despite her soft protests, she pillows her head on my chest, snuggling against me like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"What the hell are we going to do tomorrow?" she whispers, as my consciousness starts to fade.

"I dunno," I mumble. "Strip poker?"

Her soft giggle is the best lullaby I could ask for.

"Don't be an idiot."

"Sorry," I slur. "It's hopeless. Got the tattoo, y'know."

"Well." She sighs. "Nobody's perfect, I guess."

My eyelids are too heavy to hold open anymore. "How...how dare you."

Her teeth lightly graze my chest. "Bite me, Nolan."

My arm tightens around her. "Tomorrow, baby. Tomorrow, you..."

Won't be able to stop me.

Minus one hour and counting.

Oh, yeah. Livvy Parker is my wife, all right. My mate. My forever fuckin' soulmate and every other sickly sweet disgusting thing you can think of.

And don't you forget it.