“Sure?” he rasped.
But she veered too close to the edge of rapture and could no longer trust her voice. She tilted her head, exposing her neck. And just when she thought she could stand no more, he rubbed his face against her shoulder, sniffing, inhaling her with a savage cry. His fangs shot into her, billows of his mating scent wrapping her, binding her to him. She gave herself up to his passion and his keeping, her orgasm breaking over her, shattering her completely until she dissolved into particles of starshine.
He shuddered, thrusting into her in a brief, final frenzy as he came, taking her with him again in another spine-shattering orgasm. His howl split the quiet of the night, a cry of triumph, of masculine satisfaction, of a lone wolf who knew he’d be alone no more.
He collapsed on her breast, panting, and then rolled onto his back, gathering her to him, his arms strong and protective as they curled around her. He turned his head, rubbing his cheek against hers. Then moved lower to lick the mark he’d branded into her flesh.
The aftershocks continued to ripple through her, as she lay against him, still gasping for breath. Awed by this male. Her mate. Her magnificent, awesome wolf.
He reached behind her again and scrabbled around in the bag, humming. Humming Aura Lee. He wanted to do this again? Hey, no problemo, big guy. A bubbly laugh welled within her. He shocked her by singing.
Brick? Her Brick? Her wolf? Singing?
In a voice clearer and more mellow than she’d expected. He nudged her with a little velvet box and offered her a sly wink:
“Aura Lee, Aura Lee,
Take my golden ring;
Love and light return with thee,
And swallows with the spring.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. “I love you, wolf.”
“I get that.” His voice sounded gruff as he slipped the band on her finger. He seemed suddenly nervous, shy, not quite so confident of her. “But I want to make damn fuckin’ sure none of those cats ever even think about putting a ring on it.”
“No chance.” She stroked her forefinger over the mark between her neck and shoulder. “You’re the one.”
“Love you, sweetheart. From the moment you plonked me in the gut and soared away. Always have. Always will.”
He wrapped her in his arms again and she basked in the scent of him. Neither of them would ever be alone again.
“Forever and always.”
Epilogue
Summer sang softly as she dusted the mantel in the mountain cabin she and her mate had made their home. She’d brought some of her favorite items from her tree house, including the mischievous wolf carving Brick had made for her so many years ago, before they’d become lovers.
She picked it up, turning it over in her hands, stroking her index finger over the whorls of furry coat, petting the top of the head as if her own very large, very warm, very live, very sexy wolf stood beside her, before returning the miniature to its place. Well, not quite to its place.
Next, she turned her attention to the raven he’d whittled after they’d mated and she’d first moved into the cabin. She grinned as she nudged the figurine out of its proper location, knowing the new position would drive her male nuts. He’d gotten better with his obsessive-compulsive tendencies since their mating and his acceptance in his pack, but he still liked the things around him commodiously ordered. A world of complete and utter chaos would soon disrupt their homey comfort. She couldn’t wait to surprise him.
Normally, the wolf and the raven sat side by side on the mantel. She edged them farther apart.
“What are you doing?” He came up behind her, circling his arms around her middle, nuzzling her neck.
“Oh, just dusting.” She leaned against him, her back grazing his muscled chest, arching into him until her backside rubbed his groin. Reaction: Hard, predictable and instant.
“Love the taste of you. The scent of you,” he growled. “Don’t need you dusting. Need you in bed.”
She nodded, tilting her head slightly, exposing the side of her neck. He gave her a long, wet, slurpy lick.
“I’ll be done in a second, Brick.” Wiggling out of his embrace, she turned so she could see his expression and laid the dust cloth aside. “How do you think this looks?”
“What?” His seductive eyes remained on her, hot and sexy, reflecting every erotic thing he wanted to do to her.
“The mantel.”
“Don’t care about the freakin’ mantel.”
She reached up and caressed the side of his jaw, her fingers beneath his chin as she turned him toward the fireplace. “I really need your opinion, wolf.”
“Looks fi—” He caught himself and shook his head. “Wrong. Looks wrong.” He pushed the two figurines closer together again.
She nearly howled with laughter at his reaction. “We need the space.” She shoved the wolf and raven apart again.