Teeth marks.
He ran into the bedroom. “Olivia?”
She was sitting up on the bed, rubbing her ankle and calf. Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not saying it’s comfortable, but I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
Mal pushed her hand aside, inspecting her foot. It wasn’t as obvious—his scar blended in with the damage the bear had done. Still, it was there. He was there. On her skin.
He cradled her face in his hands, studying her. She was his.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a wolf?” she asked. “It’s not so—”
He pushed her back onto the bed, his lips pressed to hers, his hand kneading his mark on her skin. He’d tried not to worry, tried not to think about the pain she’d go through, to ease his guilt. Jessa had suffered when she and Finn had mated. So this, knowing he hadn’t hurt her again, was the greatest gift. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Mal,” she murmured between kisses. “No”—her hands tangled in his hair—“more hurting”—she pulled him close—“tonight.” Her tongue traced his neck, her hands stroking the length of his back.
He nodded. No more hurting, period. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about Ellen or Chase or Cyrus, but he’d figure it out. As long as Olivia was safe and happy, he was good.
“Stop thinking,” she said, rolling over him. She straddled him, placing one of his hands on her breast. He brushed the tip, stroking and rubbing until it pebbled beneath his fingers. “Only you and me.” She smiled down at him, arching into his hand.
Her hand clasped him, stroking him from base to tip. He growled, watching her watching him. She was fascinated by his body. He was fascinated by everything about her. His fingers traced along her sides, gripping her hips. She arched forward, her head lolling back and her breasts jutting forward.
“Condom,” he groaned.
She shuddered, her desire-hazed gaze meeting his. “Condom?”
“I’m not ready to share you.” His hands slid back up, cupping her breasts. “Not yet.”
She ground herself against him, her wet heat a dangerous temptation. “Where?”
He pulled open the bedside table. He wasn’t sure where they came from, though his conversation with Finn made him suspect Hollis. Whoever it was, Mal was eternally grateful for the bulk supply at their disposal.
She took the packet from him, tearing the corner with her teeth. He helped her, showing her how to put it on and getting a raging hard-on in the process. She smiled as his dick pulsed beneath her touch.
“You want me?” She seemed surprised.
He wasn’t a talker. He didn’t emote. Words got in his way. But she had to know. “I wouldn’t have made you mine if I didn’t.”
The joy on her face took his breath away.
She arched over him, her breasts swaying forward, inviting his touch. He rose, nipping one tip. Until she tilted her hips and sunk onto him.
“Damn, fuck,” he bit out, his hands gripping her hips. It was so good. So tight. So fucking deep. Staring up at her, watching her passion, Mal let her take control.
She didn’t hold back. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she pushed onto him, riding him, grinding against him and moaning his name. He wanted to wait, to make her come at least once, but she was too incredible. He sat up, nuzzling the valley between her breasts, sucking the skin hungrily as his release crashed into him. The power of it racked his body, emptying him inside of her.
His hands gripped her hips, rubbing her against him, pushing her until her body contracted around him. She buried her face against his neck, crying out as she shattered.
He held her to his chest and fell back on the bed, gasping.
...
“I’m starving,” Olivia said, pushing the comforter back. She glanced at the clock on the side table. “It’s almost six.”
Mal grunted and rolled over, spooning her back.
“In the afternoon.” She giggled. “Mal?”
He grunted again.