Shan laid her down gently on the bed, so that her head rested on the pillow. It was too dark for Harper to see him, and she waited for his lips to descend on hers. Instead, she felt the heavy weight of a pelt being draped over her and the disturbance in the air as Shan stood.

“Wait here.”

Harper sat up, drawing the pelt up around her shoulders. Only then did she realize that it was his pelt, the one he used to shift. She ran her hand over the fur, marveling in its texture. The fur was long in some places and short in others. The inside of the pelt felt like skin and was unusually warm.

He could have covered her with any one of the bed furs, so the fact that he'd chosen to give her his own pelt felt significant. Doubt began to trickle through the cracks in her resolve.

Come to my bed, he'd said.

When she'd understood what he was asking, a tide of relief had washed over her. All she could think of was that the days of intense sexual frustration were finally coming to an end. She hadn't really wanted to go to his bed. She'd wanted him to take her right then and there, up against the tree. Fast, hard, and impersonal enough that once it was finished, they could both forget about her saying that she was falling in love with him.

But, no. He'd brought her to his bed, covered her with his pelt, and now he was building a fire.

“What are you doing that for?” she asked.

“I want to see your face while I'm inside of you.”

She swallowed. “Are you always so blunt?”

He didn't answer. Within a few seconds he had a small flame going. Not sticking around to stoke it, he rejoined her in bed and beneath his pelt.

Harper was accustomed to being the aggressor, so it was strange for her to sit, watching him and waiting to see what he would do. His hand went first to her hair, pushing it to one side. He ran a thumb down her exposed neck, making her shiver.

“Don't bite me,” she said.

A bite was the chief way that a wolf shifter marked his mate. While not binding by any means, it would be flaunting the fact that he was courting her.

His thumb drew a circle in the hollow of her neck. “I'll make no guarantees.”

“Maybe I should wash up first. I haven't bathed in a week.”

He took her by the chin, making her look at him. “You're nervous.”

“No. It's just sex.” She paused, her throat working to clear a lump. “It is just sex, right? After we sleep together, you're not going to expect me to change my mind about becoming your mate, right?”

He answered her with a kiss, his tongue sweeping in to claim her mouth. She put up no resistance, knowing it would be futile. Regardless of what happened after—and it was bound to be a disaster—she wanted him as badly as she'd ever wanted anything.

Their lips remained connected as Shan moved her into his lap. They parted as he removed her shirt, and then reconnected with renewed intensity. Straddling his huge body, his big hands caressing her torso, Harper felt small and delicate for the first time that she could remember.

He kept her like that for a while, one hand gripping her waist and the other moving to support the back of her neck. Harper loved kissing him, but she was eager for more. She released his hair, reaching behind her back to grab the clasps of her bra. Before she could get them unhooked, Shan seized her wrists and pushed her down onto the bed, pinning her beneath his heavy body.

She thought he would resume kissing her, but his mouth moved to the top of her neck, closing over her flesh and sucking. He began a slow assault down the side of the slender column, teasing her skin until it felt raw. She knew he was leaving marks and a perverse part of her wanted him to. Although she'd told him not to bite her, the first time she felt his fangs graze her skin, Harper leaned into them.

“Not here,” he murmured. “Unless you want me to puncture your airway.”

He moved lower, near the space where her neck met her shoulder. He sucked her flesh into his mouth, not biting, but teasing it with his tongue and teeth until it was tender. She whimpered, her hands fisting in his hair. It hurt, but it was more than just physical pain. There was an ache coming from somewhere deep inside of her, and for an instant she wanted him to bite her even more than she wanted him to fuck her.

She was on the verge of begging him when Shan finally let go. He flicked his tongue over the tender spot and then blew on it.

He told her, “That is where I'm going to bite you when I claim you as my mate.”

“Shan...”

Harper knew she should protest and remind him that she wasn't going to be his mate, but instead she allowed herself to surrender to his narrative. She pushed out all thoughts of the life she'd imagined and pictured what it would be like to be his mate. To be loved and cherished by a man like him. To spend every night beside him.

It was a tantalizing fantasy.

Shan's free hand slipped behind her back and he deftly unhooked her bra. He released her wrists, allowing her to remove her bra. She let her arms fall down on either side of her, sensing that if she tried touching him, he would just pin her again.

He sat up, his pelt pooling around him. Firelight highlighted the contours of their bodies, and she drank in the sight of his bare torso while he surveyed hers. When he finally touched her, it was to run his hand down her chest in the space between her breasts.

“You're perfect.” His words made goosebumps rise across her skin. “There isn't a scratch or a scar on you, except...”

His eyes moved to the bandaged on her injured arm. “If you were my mate, I would have killed him.” He cocked his head, his gaze going cold and remote. “I still might.”

Harper took in a shaky breath as she sat up. She touched the sides of his face, emulating the way he'd marked her with his scent. When he made no move to stop her, she let her left hand move down his neck, the tip of her index finger tracing a thick vein. She stopped where his neck and shoulder met and peeked up at him through her lashes.

For a moment he went perfectly still and stared at her unblinkingly. Just as Harper was about to drop her hand, he seized her wrist. His grip was tight, but he guided her carefully, moving her finger an inch to the left.

She wet her lips and then lowered her mouth onto the spot he'd indicated. She flicked her tongue out, giving him a tentative lick. His skin was hot and tasted faintly of salt. She licked again, this time giving him a gentle, tugging suck. The sound of his deep inhalation encouraged her, and she sucked again, this time dragging her dull canines over his skin.

Shan growled appreciatively, his hands going around to cup her bottom. He pulled her into his lap, positioning her legs so that she was straddling him. On reflex she bucked her hips and was rewarded by the feel of his erection grinding against her clitoris. She gasped, and he must have thought that she was letting go of him, because his hand shot up to grip the back of her head, forcing her back down onto his neck.

“Bite.” His command seemed to reverberate throughout his body.

Harper hesitated. She knew that she'd heard him correctly, but she still couldn't make sense of what he was saying. Did he really expect her to bite him?

He eased his grip on the back of her head and began stroking her hair. “Stop thinking and do it.”

She bit down hard. It was by no means a sensual bite, but more of a stop-ordering-me-the-fuck-around bite that left deep indentations in his skin.

“Harder.”

Harper had already learned two worrisome things about herself that night. One was that she wanted to be bitten. The other was that she became immensely aroused when a man said that he would kill someone for her. Now, as she was hit with a jumbled rush of anxiety and excitement, she discovered that the whole biting thing wasn't a one-way street. She wanted to sink her teeth into him—so she did.

It was difficult to bite through his muscle and into the softer tissue beneath. It took at least a half of a minute, which she discovered was an eternity in biting time. As soon as her mouth filled with the tangy, coppery taste of his blood she felt a rush of a new and exquisite form of pleasure.

Possessiveness had always been one of her monsters. She'd spent many years managing it and maneuvering around it, but this was the first time that she'd fed it.

He's mine.

The words were more of an impression, felt rather than heard, and they terrified her. She released him at once and started to sputter an apology, but Shan's mouth closed over hers, muffling whatever she might have said.

Harper was still too shaken up to immerse herself in his kiss. Feeling the need to explain herself, she tried pushing him away. Shan wouldn't be moved. With only his mouth on hers, he kept her pinned to the bed as he removed her pants and underwear.

Any thoughts she'd had about stopping promptly evaporated as she felt him position the head of his cock at her entrance. He nestled himself just inside her outer folds and her legs went up around his hips, trying to urge him in.

He broke their kiss, his hot breath sticking to her face. “It might be painful for you, at first.”

“I'm counting on it.”

Shan delivered another one of his bruising kisses as he slowly pushed inside of her. He'd been right. The pain was a burn that grew sharper with each inch that he buried in her. Harper endured it, letting out only a small murmur of encouragement. It seemed fitting that it would hurt, because everything about being with him felt like her first time all over again.

A shudder ran through his body as Shan planted himself fully into her. His big arms wrapped around her, either to hug her, or to cage her in. In the ensuing stillness, the pain from his entry abated and she could feel herself throbbing around him. She dug her knees into the sides of his hips, trying to urge him to move. It was useless. As she'd now come to learn, Shan did everything in his own time.

“What are you doing?” she asked, hating how whiney she sounded.

“Feeling you.”

She maneuvered her elbow between them, jabbing it against his chest. “Well stop it. I don't like it.”

He lifted his head just enough so that he could look down at her. If the stillness had bothered her, it was nothing compared to the acute discomfort she felt as he stared into her eyes. This time, she didn't have the sense that he was searching for anything. He was just looking at her and he was seeing everything.

Their surroundings blurred out of focus and Shan became all that she was aware of. She saw his eyes, smelled his scent, tasted his blood, heard the drumming of his heart, and felt him inside of her.

Her eyes stung with tears that she couldn't account for. Shan brushed them away, and then he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, another to the space between her brows, and the bridge of her nose, and then he claimed her lips.

Harper had never been a vocal lover. Unless the sex was really, really good then the only sounds she uttered were instructions or critiques.

Shan had her moaning with each thrust, and as his pace accelerated, she was crying out each time he slammed into her. The sounds were a reflex, completely beyond her control, and Shan met each one with a sound of his own, a clipped growl that was distinctly inhuman.

As good as it was, she knew she wouldn't be able to climax. For her, having an orgasm had always required a certain level of detachment. She had to close her eyes and let her partner fade into the background before her pleasure could truly build.

There was no detaching from Shan. Each of his thrusts battered her into the present, When she tried closing her eyes, he seized her chin and snarled at her.

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, but instantly flinched away from the magnitude of his gaze.

He repeated his command, this time punctuating it with a thrust that was hard enough to hurt. Her gaze snapped to his. Fueled by anger and indignation, she was able to hold his stare. His lips slanted into a gorgeous smile, and he caressed her face and combed his fingers through her damp hair, all while relentlessly pumping into her.

As she stared into his eyes and felt the pressure begin to build in her abdomen, she understood. With him, she didn't need to detach. She didn't need to go someplace else or imagine anyone else, because he was the epitome of everything she craved.

At that realization, a low, guttural sound escaped her as she came harder than she ever had before. As her body began to spasm uncontrollably, she lost the rhythm of their hips. His eyes going wild, Shan seized her hips, slamming against his in brutal thrusts. On the third, he threw his head back, his spine going rigid as he came inside of her, pouring liquid heat into her belly.

When he came back down, it was to rub his cheek against hers. Her face was wet. More tears. She didn't have the energy to be embarrassed. Even lifting her hand to wipe at her face felt like an ordeal.

Shan rolled to the side, pulling her with him. Harper tried to pull away, but Shan tightened his hold on her.

“Don't you dare.”

“What?” Her voice was raw and throaty.

He nuzzled the side of her head. “I'm not done with you.”

“You, uh, want to do that again?”

“I want to do that again every night, for the rest of our lives.” Without a hint of teasing, he said, “But not tonight. I'd break you.”

Harper snorted. “Okay, sure. What do you want, then?”

“To hold you until sunrise,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He pulled his pelt up around them, surrounding her in his warmth.

Harper said nothing to him. She was afraid that if they started talking, she would say ridiculous things, or make promises she couldn't possibly uphold. Her mind wanted to go in a thousand different directions. Instead, she kept her focus on the rise and fall of Shan's breath, letting only the occasional stray thought slip through her trance.

Sometime before she slipped into sleep, it occurred to her that the entire time they'd been together, Shan had never put her on her knees, had never taken her from behind.

He had made love to her.