“I love you, Abigail. I never stopped.” Mason tried to breathe normally, but he’d just had his world rocked. Literally. He felt as if he was a new man. Whole. Complete. In love again with the only woman who had ever held his heart in her hands.
Sure, he’d planned to marry her. Take her as his wife and mother of his child, but he hadn’t planned on admitting just how much he still cared, but he’d always been honest. It was a Werewolf thing.
While he was being honest with himself, he admitted that nothing had ever felt as good as holding this woman in his arms. Yes, he’d had offers, but he’d never indulged. Not with anyone else. Not since the night she’d given him her virginity in the back seat of his truck.
“I finally got you in satin sheets,” he smiled as she stretched like a contented cat. Her raven hair was fanned out behind her, her jade eyes glazed with satiated lust. She looked loved. She was loved. Mine.
Mason kissed her shoulder and reached out with his hand. He skimmed over the sharp angles and smooth valleys of her body. She was in excellent shape.
Tight and fit with more muscle definition than he would’ve thought.
He inhaled and frowned a little. The scent of cleaning products still clung to her, but there was something else he couldn’t place. A mild mineral-like scent. Not unpleasant. Familiar in fact.
“Mason?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
She turned to face him, covering her beautiful breasts with a sheet as she sat up in bed. He frowned, but his ears perked up. She’d been keeping something from him. Something besides his son.
“What I am about to say is going to sound crazy.”
“It’s okay, Abby, whatever it is. I have a few secrets of my own.”
“Not like this,” she whispered and tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear. Her jade eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
Mason wanted to hold her, but he knew she would break if he did. He steeled himself to listen until she was finished. One thing he knew, she wasn’t getting away from him again.
“Ten years ago, I left my home, and you, because of something my father told me. He’d told me before I asked you to pick me up that last night,” she let out a shaky breath and continued, “he was sending me away. He told me something was going to happen on my eighteenth birthday that would change everything. He wasn’t sure it was real until I started showing the signs. Sleeping late, eating less, getting weird cravings.”
He sat up on the bed, across from her, but near enough to touch her. It was killing him not to reach out and pull her onto his lap, but she needed to get this out. He could sense it. He was careful to keep his expression neutral.
“Go on, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he said when she stopped talking.
“I had to see you first, had to tell you he was sending me away, but when we saw each other, well you know, we did what we did, and I didn’t have the heart to tell you. When I went home, he knew. He knew we’d made love, my hair I guess or my smile, anyway, he told me I had to leave right then. He told me I had to go to my mother’s people because he couldn’t deal with me anymore. He, uh, he called me a monster, told me I was just like my mother, that he was ashamed and disgusted with me and that you’d be too, if I didn’t kill you first,” tears fell down her face, but she didn’t move to wipe them.
She let all her sorrow out, all her pain, and still Mason kept his hands to himself. He knew if he touched her, she’d never finish, and he needed her to finish. He needed to know exactly what she meant. Was it possible?
“I was sent to a small settlement outside of Sitka, Alaska. My mother’s people are a clan called The White Hand. We are Dhampir, half-Vampire, half-human. Ollie will turn when he is eighteen. That’s the way it happens to us. We, uh, we eat and drink the same as you, but after the transformation we need blood from a live source. I know you must think I’m crazy, but I swear it’s true.”
Mason sat up and reached out for her. She pulled back at first and he felt the strength in her. He smiled, realizing it was her Dhampiric nature that made her so strong. That’s kinda hot! He smiled at her astonished expression when he overpowered her and brought her on top of his lap.
“You’re strong,” she said in a low voice. He smiled and let the Wolf out just a little. Abigail gasped and her green eyes widened.
“Hominis lupus.”
“We prefer Werewolf. Latin is for old people.”
“Oh, my God! You mean, you believe me then, because you, you-” she gulped and cried a little before saying, “You’re a monster too.”
“You’re not a monster, baby, you are beautiful. A fucking miracle. Just like our boy. If anyone says different, I’ll rip their fucking throats out,” he kissed her lips and growled as she clung to him.
“So, you’re not disgusted?”
“Disgusted? Of you or our boy? Never. I’m proud of you, Abigail, and I’m sorry I kept my secret from you. If I’d told you sooner, we wouldn’t have had to be apart.”
“It’s in the past, it’s okay. We didn’t know, neither of us knew,” she laughed through her tears and Mason felt his Wolf howl in his mind’s eye as she held him tight.
She opened her legs and straddled him. Comfort quickly turned to passion as she moved her tongue past his lips and kissed him for all she was worth. Mason growled. Mine.
He was more than ready for her as she pulled off the sheet that separated them and slammed herself down on the hard evidence of his arousal.
“I love you, Mason,” she said into his mouth as he arched up finding his home inside of her.
“I love you too, Abigail. Forever.”
He liked that idea very much. Just like he liked the idea of making love with her for hours. In that time, Mason learned every inch of her body. He studied it as if his life depended on it.
“Sweet, my sweet, sweet, Abigail. Mine,” he said as he thrust his pelvis and rocked her body into an entirely new meaning of fulfillment.
“Mason?” Her voice was panicked.
“What, baby?”
“I need to-” She licked her lips as her fangs descended. They were thin and longer than regular teeth. Sharp like needles. Not at all like his fangs.
She ran a tongue over them, and he felt himself grow harder inside of her. Mason turned his head, baring his neck to her. He’d never felt so turned on in his life at the thought of his woman riding him and biting him at the same time.
“Are you sure?” The words were heavier in her mouth. As if her speech had slowed down around the baring of her fangs. He nodded and met her eyes, the Wolf bright in them.
“Yes, feed from me. Only me,” his growl was deep as she struck his vein.
Almost immediately, Mason began to come. With her lips tight to his flesh, she sucked the blood from his body to nourish hers, and he came harder still, his erection buried deep inside her.
Time and space seemed to spin in and out of reality. He felt as if he were going to lose himself in her and he didn’t even care. Mason had never orgasmed so hard in his life. Her tight muscles milked him until he felt his sex explode like a rocket.
She was gorgeous in her need and in her hunger. The way she licked her lips and struck his neck, rocking her hips back and forth on top of him. She was a fucking goddess. And she was his. Finally. Her green eyes were glazed with a faraway satiated expression when she lifted her head.
Mason felt elated knowing he was responsible for not only her pleasure, but for her nourishment too. The Wolf inside him howled his satisfaction. He’d found his home, finally inside of her. His Abby. Mine.
Abigail sighed with contentment after she and Mason emerged some hours later fresh from a hot shower. Her shoulder ached a little where he’d marked her, but she didn’t mind.
Her Werewolf lover had reverently asked her permission before marking her as his mate. Abby smiled. She loved knowing she belonged to him.
She felt energized, satisfied, and completely alive. More so than she had in years. The shower really helped clarify some things for them both.
First, was her scent. Mason grabbed her and buried his nose in her neck, breathing her in, the second she washed off the lingering smell of the bleach and cleanser she had used on the house.
“That’s what my nose was telling me, I smelled you. Your supernatural essence gives off a distinct scent that I can finally name. Dhampir.”
“I smell?”
“No! Well, yes, we all smell.”
“That’s true, I thought you maybe had a dog,” she laughed tongue in cheek as he smacked her wet bottom. That led to more kisses and more playful swats.
The shower was very educational. In the end, she was satisfied with his assessment of her scent. He also explained a few things she didn’t quite get. Like why she smelled like him even after all the soap and such.
“I marked you.”
“So?”
“So, we are matebonded. Is it the same for Dhampirs?”
“I don’t know. There weren’t many mated pairs in the community. I never thought to ask.”
“When Werewolves matebond there is a natural process of marking and covering your mate with your scent. My Wolf chose you as our mate long ago, Abigail. It’s only ever been you.”
“Are you sure, it doesn’t bother you? The blood?” She looked down when she asked her question. Afraid of what she might see in his eyes.
“Abigail, I love that I can provide this for you. It fulfills me, makes me want to beat my chest and howl it to anyone with ears that you’re mine. Mine to love, to protect, and to take care of. You’re my everything. You and Oliver.”
“I love you, Mason, so much.”
“I love you too.”