Delia could not believe this was happening. Half a day in Scotland and she’d met her mate.
My mate—eeeeeeek!
Her actual, honest to Goddess, fated mate. And even better? He was a total geeky stud.
Score me!
What could be hotter than a sexy guy covered in muscles and sporting glasses?
Delia had dated enough men, and women, to know what she liked, and Delia really, really liked—er, crap. What was his name?
She should feel mortified, here she was two seconds from having full-blown sex with the guy, and she did not even know his name. Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. Robbie, the clerk, had called him Mr. Balloch.
That was funny. There was a writer she liked named A. Balloch. Maybe it was a common surname in Scotland. She’d have to ask him.
Later. Much later.
They could work all the details out after she sated her Wolf. The animal inside her was going ballistic. Delia had found her mate, and if she didn’t get him inside her in two minutes, she was going to go full Wolf on his ass and take a chunk out of his gorgeous hide.
Mine.
She reached for his zipper and slid it down over his impressive bulge. She gave herself a mental high five for changing into the comfy, loose maxi dress after her flight. Easy access had never felt better.
The sexy man grunted his approval as he slid his fingers up her thighs, pushing the material to her waist. She was so happy she’d gone with her best pair of undies.
Delia was usually a fan of comfort over style. The red briefs she had on were soft and pretty, offering full coverage with a hint of lace around the legs and waist. She would never be a thong girl, but her mate did not seem to care.
His large hands lifted her, sliding her panties aside as she freed his cock. Moisture pooled at her core, and heat filled her. Her mate growled and sucked on her neck, sending shivers of awareness racing through her.
Yes, please.
“Are you sure?” he asked one last time, his voice impossibly deep.
“Positive. Are you?”
“Aye, mo chridhe,” he growled, and fuck, arousal dripped down her thighs, coating his magnificent shaft.
Need pulsed between them like a living thing, and their eyes met, and they came to a silent agreement. This was it. The time for talking was done.
Keeping her eyes locked on his own glittering gaze, Delia placed his thick head at her entrance. Pressing down inch by glorious inch, they moaned as she took him deep, so very deep, inside of her.
The man stretched her walls, creating a burning sting that made her Wolf crazy with need. When he was buried to the hilt, she exhaled, taking a moment to adapt to his size.
Fuck, but he was big, thick, and so damn warm. Perfect. He felt perfect. Delia grabbed his face, kissing him as she rolled her hips, sucking him in even deeper.
She could not stop kissing him. That much was clear. Delia was glued to his mouth, lip locked as she rode him, slow at first, then building up momentum. His growls encouraged her, as did his hands.
They never stopped caressing her. It was like he could not get enough. He touched her everywhere he could reach—her calves, her thighs, her ass, breasts, shoulders, neck, and face—literally, everywhere.
Fuck, how was he so damn sexy?
She had no idea, but he was. Sexy and sweet, and he never broke contact. Never stopped touching and kissing, even as he drove upwards with his hips.
He had such great hands. He tenderly cupped her bottom, gripping her globes and using them to bounce her on his stone hard dick when the pleasure grew too much for her to do more than feel.
His powerful thrusts met her own ministrations. Their bodies were completely attuned to one another. Heat filled her, and her beast howled deep and low.
The sounds of their lovemaking were loud in her ears, a magnificent symphony of whispers, breathy moans, gasps, and skin sliding against skin. Her insides were on fire.
The inferno growing between them to impossible temperatures. She felt her body tense, the rising pleasure so good it almost blinded her. Eyes closed, Delia felt her Wolf take control.
Her teeth elongated, the nails on her fingertips turned to claws. Fuck, she wanted to claim. No, she needed to. Delia had never been so sure of anything in her whole life, but she knew beyond any doubt she had to have this man.
Instinct drove her, and the magic of her Druid heritage rose to the challenge. It was time for her to accept her destiny as being tied with his, or chalk this up to a very heated encounter.
Could she do it, though? Claim her future here and now, or walk away?
“Oh Goddess, I’m close,” she moaned.
“Aye, mo chridhe. Good. Do it. I want you to come for me,” he grunted into her ear, nipping her lobe between his teeth.
Oh, she liked his roughness. A whole lot. The magnificent male stood, taking her weight easily as he lifted her. He reversed their positions, laying her back on the table, legs over his shoulders as he pounded into her hard and fast, giving her the push she needed.
Cupping her neck, he kept their gazes locked, victory dancing in his dark eyes as the first wave of orgasm crested over her. She lowered her legs, wrapping them like vises around his hips as she reared up.
He was still pumping his hips, determined for her to ride out every last wave of pleasure he gave to her. And fuck, it was glorious. Delia’s hands clutched his shoulders, and the gorgeous male tilted his head, granting her access to his long, masculine neck.
“Do it,” he growled, knowing exactly where she was going with this.
Still reeling from the ecstasy he’d gifted her, Delia pulled his neck down, tugging his shirt to the side, she growled once and then she bit him.
Her Wolf howled with joy from that metaphysical plane where she dwelled when Delia’s human skin was in charge. The claiming bite was something a Wolf only gave to their mate. This was it. The ultimate commitment, and Delia was grabbing it with both hands.
She’d been adrift for so long. Alone and unsure of herself, but this felt right. Her entire body buzzed with it. As she swallowed down his life’s essence, her channel squeezed him.
Delia’s big, dominant Bull cupped her neck, nudging her face aside so he could return the gesture. His blunt teeth ripped into her skin as he gave her his mating mark. The hurt lasted a mere moment, replaced by pleasure so intense, she came again.
A deep, rumbling noise filled the aisle and Delia was shocked to realize it came from him, as he worked every ripple and aftershock until she couldn’t see straight.
They fit like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for one another as only the Fates themselves could have had a hand in. When she thought she would die from the pleasure, and only then, did he fill her with warm jets of his own bliss.
“S’good, chridhe. So good,” he growled, pushing into her slowly as he rode out every bit of their pleasure.
Sexy man. Good mate.
“Shite. Someone’s coming along. Come here. Fix yer dress,” he said.
Her sexy AF mate helped her stand, putting her to rights and tucking her hair behind her ears, before he zipped his own pants and bent to retrieve the books they’d dropped. Delia stood just trying to breathe, since she was apparently useless at the moment.
What the hell had just happened? She had never felt anything like that before. The man had literally fucked her stupid—something she’d often heard females from her Pack say about their mates, but had never experienced herself.
Holy Shiiiiiit.
“Delia, are you alright?”
“Huh. Oh, yeah. Um, I just, uh—”
“Me too, chridhe.” He grinned at her and kissed her temple, a gesture so sweet her insides melted.
“I’ve heard of mating fever, but I had no idea it could be so consuming,” she said honestly.
“Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing the top of his head as he listened. “Um, I think they’re passing us, going to the histories section,” he mumbled.
He turned around, a relieved smile on his almost too good-looking face. Her she-Wolf growled appreciatively, but Delia did not know what to do with those butterflies flapping about in her stomach.
They’d been intimate, exchanged claiming marks. Hell, she felt tethered to him already. But there was still so much she did not know about the man. For example, who even was he?
Sexy stranger. Bossy Bull. Mine. Mate.
“So, what’s your name?”