Tangle of Need

“I can send it back, reorder another—” His kiss stole her breath, stole her words, would’ve stolen her heart if it hadn’t already belonged to him.

Touching her fingers to her passion-swollen lips, her breasts straining against the bodice of her dress, she watched him put the box back on the seat and strip off his shirt, exposing the beautiful chest she’d licked and sucked in the shower not long ago—her mate could be patient now that “the edge was off,” though patience was a relative thing.

She’d ended up pinned to the wet tile, her legs wrapped around lean hips. Petting her with lazy possessiveness, he’d stroked into her slow and deep until she came in a rain of pleasure. Yet her body pulsed for him all over again, the sensory memory of rubbing against his chest sensitizing her nipples to aching points.

Hawke’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t stop what he was doing.

Dropping his shirt onto the bed, he lifted out and shrugged into the one she’d spent hours upon hours searching for online. When he raised his hands to the buttons, she stepped into his space. “I’ll do that.” She couldn’t resist kissing each hard, muscled inch before she covered it up.

“Sienna.”

A shiver rippled over her skin at the sound of that deep growly voice. “We can’t be late to our own ceremony.”

Tugging back her head, he nipped at her lower lip, his eyes wolf blue. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Or maybe I’ll put it on yours,” she said, giving him a little bite with her “claws.”

“I promise to pay up.” His free hand, proprietary and warm, on the curve of her hip. “With interest.”

Slotting in the final button, she resisted the urge to undo her work and stepped back to watch him tuck the shirt into his pants and do up his belt. There was something intensely erotic about seeing her man getting dressed, and Sienna had the feeling that would never change. Not with Hawke.

“So?” he said afterward.

She straightened the collar. “Take it off, you’re too handsome.”

“No, it’s already my favorite shirt.” Hawke remembered seeing Lucas in a T-shirt that exactly matched his eyes not long ago, and feeling the hard stab of envy at knowing the leopard alpha’s mate had purchased it for him. He’d thought the wild beauty of such a bond forever out of his reach.

Now, he was being petted by a woman who had somehow managed to find a shirt that matched the unusual shade of his own eyes, the ice blue threads so fine, it felt like wearing a kiss against his skin. Sienna’s kiss. “What are you buying me for my birthday?” Both parts of him admired his reflection, his hair almost glittering against the foil of the blue.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you,” was the arch response.

Delighted with her, he stole another kiss before tangling his fingers with her own. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The slightest hitch to her breath. “I know these events follow their own rhythm, but do you have any idea of what we should expect?”

“Good chance the lieutenants are going to kick it off with a speech.” Hawke glanced down, glimpsed the black leather-synth of her boot through the slit, and remembered that hushed night when he’d first allowed himself to hold her, though it had been torture to do only that and nothing more. “Then we’ll dance and celebrate.” Normally, Hawke would be the one who spoke first at any mating or bonding ceremony, letting the new couple know their pairing was accepted and welcome. The impact of that moment was luminous, an inexplicable but powerful something passing between an alpha and his people.

“Dance all night with me?” Sienna asked as they left the den for the walk to the Pack Circle.

He enjoyed the feel of the wind flicking her dress against his legs, the supple warmth of her a familiar caress under the hand he’d placed on her lower back. “I know Tomás is planning to steal a dance, and Drew’s claimed one already.”

“You’re rescinding the no-touching rule for tonight?” It was a laughing tease.

“Since there are no baby cats around, yes.” His wolf snarled at the reminder of her friendship with Kit. “But, on that note—” Not giving her any warning, he bit her on the bared skin of her right shoulder.

“Hawke!” She thrust a hand into his hair, found that instead of pushing him away, she was holding him to her while he licked over the mark with a molten sensuality that made her toes curl.

“There,” he murmured, slits of ice blue visible between lowered lids. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.” Another proprietary lick.

Pulse thudding against her skin, she laughed. “As if people were in any doubt.”

Satisfied—and very alpha—smile on his face, he placed his hand on her lower back again and they continued down the path. “I’ll allow the pack to monopolize you until midnight”—a low murmur that was a rough stroke over her skin—“then I’ll dance with you until the stars fade and the sun rises.”