Mate Claimed

by Jennifer Ashley

  Not enough. Iona tossed the empty bowl—which she’d licked clean—into the sink, tore off her sauce-stained clothes, showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed again in sweats and a tank top.

  There. Civilized.

  And still starving. Iona walked back through the dark house, not bothering with the lights. She could order pizza again, but she worried about what she’d do to the guy who brought it, in the state she was in.

  She called Eric. He didn’t answer. She knew he’d walked out of the office without saying good-bye because he was protecting her from Kellerman. He didn’t want Kellerman to know Iona was anything to him, that he even noticed her in the room. Iona knew that, and still felt empty.

  Iona threw the phone down. She shivered, so hungry. She had to get out.

  And then he was there. Eric came out of the shadows of her back hall while Iona was reaching for her keys. She didn’t bother wondering how he’d gotten in. Eric always found a way.

  Without a word, Eric took the keys from her fingers and dropped them on the table, then he flowed against her, and their mouths met.

  Eric twined his fingers through hers, lifting their hands out to their sides, and turned slowly with her as though they danced. All the while he kissed her in silence, his mouth a place of heat.

  Their bodies fused, her sweatpants thin enough that she could feel his hardness in his jeans. She loved the ridge of it against her, remembered the feel of it in her hand, wanted it inside her.

  “Eric,” she whispered.

  He caught the word on his lips. He opened her mouth and explored it in long, sultry strokes of his tongue, licking, then nipping. He still wore his leather coat, the scent of it mixing with his musk and his taste.

  Eric drew their twined hands up between them, releasing her mouth to transfer hot, slow kisses to her fingers.

  “Be my mate,” he said. “Sun and moon. Say yes.” He sucked the tip of her middle finger into his mouth. “I’m dying for you, Iona.”

  She was dying for him. “You want me to be Shifter.”

  “You are Shifter. Experience it with me, at my side.”

  “I want…” Heat and frustration warred within in her. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I need you.” Eric touched his face to hers. “It’s killing me.”

  “Yes.” Iona let out a breath. “Eric, I’m so hungry.”

  Her frustration came out as a growl. Eric growled in response. He took a step back, shed his jacket, and stripped off his shirt.

  “Feast on me,” he said.

  Iona just looked at him at first, letting his beauty fill her senses. The faint glow from the kitchen touched his body, his muscles a play of light and shadow, his eyes jade green in the darkness.

  Looking wasn’t enough. Iona’s hands went to his bare torso, firm muscle under her fingertips. Hard pectorals, strong shoulders, tight biceps. She traced his tattoo, her mouth watering with the desire to lick it.

  The world took on a slightly reddish tint, the walls around them concave, and she knew her eyes had become the Shifter’s. She growled again, the beast’s snarl in her throat.

  Iona didn’t want to hurt him. She started to lift her hands away, fearing they’d sprout claws and gouge him, but Eric grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands back to him. His own eyes turned Shifter, with cat slits, his animal growl echoing hers.

  Feast on me.

  Iona bent her head, his hands still around her wrists, and washed the lines of his tatt with her tongue. His skin tasted salty, the ink lines smooth. She wound her way up the painted lines, across his bicep to his shoulder.

  Now she wanted to bite. Iona moved her mouth to the skin between Eric’s shoulder and neck, and sucked a fold between her teeth.

  He made a raw sound in his throat. Iona started to pull back, fearing she’d hurt him, but Eric slid his hand to her neck and pulled her to him again. “Slake the hunger. That’s why I’m here.”

  Iona let out a sigh of need and suckled harder. He tasted good, so good. Iona felt her fingers become the cat’s claws, and her teeth sharpened.

  Hungry. Mate. Mine.

  “Iona…” It was a whisper, his hand strong on the nape of her neck. She felt him rock his head back, heard his intake of breath. “Goddess, you are good to me.”

  His hard-on was rigid against her sweatpants, making Iona’s blood sear. She drew her hands down his chest, seeing that she’d already scratched him with her claws, and ripped open his belt.

  Within seconds she had his jeans unbuttoned and the zipper down. Iona pushed his underwear out of the way and happily closed her hands around his cock.

  The weight of it in her hands, the warm hardness, made her hungrier than ever. Iona squeezed both fists around his cock while she licked the bite marks she’d left on his shoulder.

  Eric undid the drawstring of her sweats and thrust his hands inside, making a noise of satisfaction when he found she hadn’t bothered with underwear. He dipped one hand between her legs, fingers sinking into her heat.

  Iona hummed in delight while she continued licking, biting, suckling his neck, the metallic taste of the Collar blending with the heat of his skin. She closed her eyes when he slid a finger inside her, the slim but firm thrust making her arch against him.

  She had to have him. No more playing. Iona opened her eyes and raised her head, the Shifter in her in no way dismayed to see the line of red bruises she’d left from his shoulder to neck, even with the few dots of blood.

  My mark. He’s mine.

  Eric’s eyes were half-closed in pleasure. His hand went again to the nape of her neck, holding her in place while he pressed a second finger inside her.

  Iona ripped herself away from him. He stared in surprise, then gave her a slow smile as he raised his fingers to his lips and licked them clean.

  Iona’s informal family room was only a few steps from the hall, the high-backed leather sofa that faced the fireplace only a few paces more. Iona pushed Eric backward to it. He kicked out of the jeans and underwear pooling around his feet and caught Iona’s shirt at the same time, lifting it off over her head.

  Iona hadn’t bothered with a bra either, finding the band too itchy and confining. Cool air caressed her skin but couldn’t stop the burning.

  She pushed Eric again. “On the back.”

  Eric waited a beat, as though wondering what she meant, then he gave her a savage smile and swung one leg over the high back of the sofa. His knee bent, strong foot resting on the sofa cushions, the other leg tight where he braced himself against the floor.

  Iona shivered in delight. Eric was naked, liquid gold skin slick with sweat, his cock hard and tight, against the leather of her sofa. Iona slid off her sweatpants, now as naked as he. She held Eric’s shoulders to steady herself and swung up to straddle the sofa’s back, facing him.

  Eric’s grin set his green eyes sparkling. “I’m glad I taught you how to ride on the back of my bike.”

  This would be even sexier on his motorcycle, the sudden thought flashed through Iona’s head. Next time.

  She clutched his shoulders, hands turning to claws again. “Tell me what to do.”

  Eric’s smile vanished. “You sure? I’m big.”

  “I’m not small—for a human. I want you, Eric. I need you.”

  “Lift up a little,” he said.

  Iona rocked forward, and Eric slid his hands under her thighs. He leaned back, strong body bracing, until his cock stood up between them. He scooted her forward, still holding her, until she was poised above him.

  Then he let her go. Iona stood on tiptoe on one side, her foot feeling the pull, her other foot comfortable on the sofa’s cushions. Eric’s tip brushed the opening between her legs, her wetness there making her dizzy with heat.

  “Join with me,” Eric whispered, urgent.

  He didn’t reach for her. He braced one hand on the sofa cushion, the other on his thigh. He’d let Iona do this herself.

  Because he was afraid of hurt
ing her. The tenderness of that made Iona want him all the more.

  Iona closed her eyes as she lowered herself the last inch separating them.

  The sound that came out of her mouth as Eric’s cock flowed inside her was primal. She’d never felt anything like it—hot, large, pushing her, spreading her, opening her.

  Eric’s groan was loud in the silence, and she opened her eyes. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Just like that.” His jaw went tight as his head rocked back. “Just. Like. That.”

  Iona had no awareness of anything but him solidly inside her, the point where her existence began. She rocked her hips, which drove him another inch deeper and dragged another groan from him.

  “Goddess.”

  It didn’t hurt. Iona had thought it would hurt, though in her frenzy, she hadn’t cared. But, no, this wasn’t pain. It was freedom. Eric penetrated her, opening and stretching. She felt full, ecstatic, and she shuddered.

  The wild burning in her skin that had made her so itchy lessened, draining downward to where they joined. The heat was incandescent there, a hard ache. Sweat filmed her skin, the night air finally cooling her.

  Eric smiled up at her, his teeth pointed like his leopard’s, but his eyes warm. “You are beautiful, my Iona.”

  Her sexy, naked Shifter, laid out for her pleasure. His Collar gleamed in the moonlight through the windows, the band of silver and black the only thing he wore.

  Iona skimmed hands over his body, her tongue swiping her lips. “Hungry,” she whispered.

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  The snarling in her stomach turned to a different kind of hunger. Eric was all the way inside her, but Iona wanted him deeper. She wanted all of him, everything he had to give her.

  She needed it. Iona rocked her hips, pushing down. Eric steadied her, showing her how to move. This, this…

  The rhythm began, and Iona’s thoughts dissolved. The panther in her gave a satisfied growl, the female happy finally to have a mate.

  And what a mate. Eric was a beautiful man—strong, powerful, gentle, and protective. The perfect catch.

  Eric’s body balanced effortlessly on the sofa as he held her steady. His mouth twisted with his pleasure, his eyes halfclosed to watch her.

  Iona’s rhythm rocked her on him, the ache inside her unbearable. At the same time, she never wanted it to stop. Never stop, never stop…

  Eric’s thoughts had ceased being coherent as soon as she’d slid down onto him. He felt her heat close around him—perfect. He was exactly where he belonged, inside this woman, his mate.

  It had been so long since he’d found this kind of completeness. Hell, since he’d felt this good about anything.

  Her rocking motion made her breasts sway, the nipples dark little points. She squeezed without realizing she did it, drawing him farther into her. Deeper, deeper. They were one, joined, bonded, to hell with ceremonies.

  Iona. Love. Keep me inside you, forever.

  Her fingers were firm points against his chest. Her claws had receded, but her fingertips were strong. He loved that she wasn’t afraid of him, was ready to take anything he gave her.

  Eric’s hips rose with her rhythm, the cool back of the couch an exciting contrast to the absolute, tight heat inside her. He liked the way her waist curved in a bit, belly a little soft above her rounded hips, a woman lush enough to take him.

  And strong enough. Iona was no weak human. She was a beautiful Shifter woman, and she was winding up Eric’s frenzy at the same time as she was relieving it.

  Eric wanted her now, and he wanted her always. It would never be enough.

  His body burned, the hottest part where he pushed inside her. Iona rocked down, down, and Eric pressed up. He was shuddering now, sweat coating his body, his hands locked around Iona’s wrists.

  His cock reached higher into her, as high as it could, trapped by her wet, slick, tight sheath. He moved in slow, gentle thrusts, liking the way her face softened. Then he moved faster, his cock so hard it hurt. The wiry curls around her opening tickled, sweet contrast to the need to pump and pump and never stop.

  Eric arched back, his naked body slick against the sofa. She made soft, female noises, mixed with wildcat growls, as she rode him, her breasts swinging, her hair snaking down to tangle around her nipples.

  A shout tore from his lips as Eric’s seed shot into her, her cry echoing his. He closed hands around her hips, holding them together, his instinctive need to fill his mate making him thrust and thrust again.

  Iona cried his name, her voice ringing through the night, laughing with tears running down her face.

  Warm tendrils wound through Eric’s heart, trapping him with unbearable strength. Tears wet his own eyes as he held her, their intense frenzy spiraling down to easy little thrusts.

  Eric knew he was bonded to her in more ways than one, body and soul, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Damn, I’m still hungry.”

  Eric wanted to laugh as he stroked Iona’s hair. They’d fallen together onto the sofa’s seat—nearly onto the floor before Eric had stopped their wild roll. Eric lay on his back now on the leather, Iona stretched on top of him.

  There was nowhere in the world Eric wanted to be but right here, with her.

  “Still as bad?” Eric asked.

  “No.” Iona drew a long breath. “Eric, I’ve been eating so much food. How can I do that without getting sick? I’m not a teenager anymore. I won’t burn it off.”

  She looked annoyed with herself. Eric cuddled her closer and kissed the bridge of her nose. “Shifter metabolism is much faster than a human’s. You can take it.”

  “But why? I didn’t even want this much food when I did the Transition thing.”

  “Mating instinct,” Eric said lazily. “Hunger so you’ll eat for strength, mating frenzy so you’ll drag down a male and have him land a cub on you.”

  “That sounds so…”

  “Animal-like? Would be, wouldn’t it?” Eric slid his hands along her warm sides, her skin silk under his fingertips. “The Fae weren’t wrong when they called us little better than animals.” He smiled a little. “Fucking Fae bastards.”

  Iona moved against him, restless. “I still want to run around too.”

  “Mmm, I must be getting old. I want nothing more than to lie here, with you, the sexiest woman in the world, on top of me.”

  Iona smiled. “I’m not sexy.”

  “Sexy, hot, erotic, cute, beautiful as hell, and I want to make love to you all day and all night.”

  “I see.” She sounded pleased. “We wouldn’t get much else done.”

  “Who gives a flying fuck? What’s more important?”

  Iona rested her crossed arms on Eric’s chest, her chin on her forearms, which put her a breath from his face. He liked her there. “Running Shiftertown?” she suggested.

  “Let Cassidy do it. And Jace. I’m busy.”

  “And Graham will keep fussing about the houses.”

  “He can kiss my ass.” Eric growled. “I’m with my mate.”

  “And those poor Shifters who were abducted.”

  Eric’s humor evaporated. “Yeah, we’ll have to deal with that.”

  Iona pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, a feather touch. “Kellerman was lying when he said he didn’t know anything about it.”

  “I know. I’ll get the truth out of him.”

  “At least the cubs are all right,” Iona said. “Aren’t they?”

  “They are. Thank the Goddess.”

  Iona touched his Collar. “I’ll have to wear one of these eventually, won’t I?”

  Eric gently lifted her hand from his Collar, then he brushed his fingertips across her bare neck. “Maybe not.”

  “You’ll have me keep passing as human? The other Shifters know now, and you said they might say something…”

  Eric stilled her words. “A different solution. Collars that look like Collars but aren’t.” />
  “Fake Collars? How can that work? Won’t that be obvious?”

  “I don’t know how they work, but they do. Some of the Shifters already have them, but that’s not common knowledge. The Shifters in Austin, the Morrisseys, they’ve figured out how to make these Collars, and they’ve offered to share.”

  Iona frowned. “Let me see if I understand. You’ll have me wear a Collar that doesn’t work, and you’ll have the databases or whatever changed to make it look like I’ve lived in your Shiftertown all my life.”

  “That’s it.”

  “Won’t my friends and family notice? And the people I’ve worked with for years?”

  “I guess you’ll have to learn who you can trust. The records will show the humans that you’ve always been Shifter, no matter what anyone says.”

  “No blowback on my sister or mother?”

  Eric covered her hands with his. “I’ll do my damnedest to prevent that. You have my word.”

  “It’s my whole life, Eric.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He looked into her eyes, which were blue and anguished. “Spend that life with me.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Eric swallowed, his throat tight. “You do. You don’t have to pick me. You don’t have to pick anyone. Live in Shiftertown, and I’ll keep you safe, like I do the rest of my Shifters. It’ll be tough for me to keep all those males off you, but I’ll do it. You’ll be under my protection. It’s your choice, Iona.”

  She watched him with a stunned look. She’d expected him, he knew, to throw her over his shoulder and drag her home, to sex her until she admitted she was his true mate.

  Which sounded very appealing, but Shifters weren’t feral anymore. As much as it killed him, Eric had to let Iona choose.

  Iona let out her breath. “I still want a run. A nice long one.”

  Eric’s excitement kicked in again. A chase. Yes. “You and your mom have a cabin up in the mountains, right? Is it off the beaten track?”

  Iona nodded. “Nice and isolated. We love it.”

  The excitement escalated. Eric rose with it, lifting Iona and setting her on her feet at the same time he came to his. “Then let’s go.”