Page 26 of Blood & Bond (The Bouchers #2)

We barely made it into the bedroom before his mouth met mine, his tongue sliding inside like it had always meant to be there.

I gripped his ass and cupped his testicles in my hand as his fingers pinched my nipples hard and then soothed them with the lightest of touches.

The insides of my thighs grew wet as he ushered me to the bed, groaning into my mouth.

“What do you want?” he asked, pushing me onto my back, my legs dangling off the side of the bed.

“Your mouth,” I replied quickly. I was past the point of embarrassment or self-consciousness. He’d seen and touched every piece of my body already.

Mewling, I arched off the bed as he took my nipple between his teeth and bit down just hard enough to sting before sucking it into his mouth, thrumming and laving it with his tongue.

It was incredible. His hand moved up to pinch and rub and soothe my other nipple until I was writhing, reaching for any piece of him I could grab hold of.

When his mouth trailed down my body, I pulled my heels to the edge of the bed and let my knees fall wide, reaching for his head.

I gripped his hair in my hands, and he chuckled as he leaned down to delicately kiss my clit and blow gently against the heated skin.

“More,” I ordered, lifting toward him.

I was past the point of teasing. Past the point of waiting.

I gasped and cried out when he stopped messing around and pressed his mouth against me, his tongue thrashing at my clit until I was on the edge and then thrusting inside me. I ground against his mouth as I keened, letting out a sob of relief when he moved to my clit again.

He did it over and over until I was ready to tackle him and ride his face until I came. My nails dug into his shoulders and scratched along the back of his neck as I tried to hold him in place.

Little black dots danced in my vision, and my throat ached from my scream when I came. I shook with aftershocks as his tongue pressed steadily against my clit and two fingers, then three slid inside me.

“Oh my god,” I rasped when he finally lifted his head. His fingers left me with a slow curl.

Ambrose swiped his hand over his mouth and smiled softly.

“You taste so good,” he said so quietly I barely heard him.

I pushed myself up and scooted away from him before moving to my hands and knees. He watched me intently as I got closer, his hands reaching for my back, then curving around my ribs.

He was salty when I licked the tip of his erection and then sucked him into my mouth.

A past relationship had cured me of interest in blow jobs years before, but I wanted Ambrose in my mouth.

I wanted to taste him and feel him against my tongue and the back of my throat.

Any associations I’d connected to the act weren’t applicable with my mate.

I wanted to know him in any and every way I could.

One of his hands tangled in my hair as the other slid down my back and between the cheeks of my ass, gently playing over the skin there until I squirmed.

It wasn’t like any other experience I’d ever had. I needed more, more, more. I couldn’t imagine a way that we could get close enough. I burned, addicted to him and what we were doing. My clit throbbed.

“Come here,” he ordered gruffly as he tugged me away by my hair.

As I kneeled on the edge of the bed and met his eyes, my hair still tangled in his fist, I’d never felt more myself. Powerful even.

“May I have you?” he asked, tipping my head back until our lips were nearly touching.

The words were heavy. Weighted. And though I wasn’t sure why, I knew they were important.

“Yes,” I rasped.

He groaned as his lips crashed down on mine, and he crawled onto the bed with me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and mewled when his erection tapped against my swollen clit. Our chests brushed, the hair on his abrading my nipples as he pressed me into the bed.

“Ulf,” I whimpered, canting my hips as he ground against me. “Please.”

Leaning up on one arm, he cupped my cheek in his palm as he shifted his hips and pressed in, the head of his erection notching just inside me before pausing.

“My mate,” he whispered, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he kissed my chin.

“Almost,” I whispered back as I arched my neck.

The sound that left my mouth when he rammed inside me was something between a scream and a growl, unrecognizable to my ears. When he began to move, I held his face in my shaking hands, so overwhelmed that I needed the sight of him to keep me grounded.

“You’re so perfect,” he grunted, his eyes on mine. “Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

I gasped as he twisted his hips a little on the next thrust, hitting the spot inside me that made my entire body throb with pleasure.

The heat was like hot lava in my veins, and every inch of flesh he touched sent out waves of cool relief, the mixture of pain and pleasure so intertwined that it was impossible to keep them separate in my mind.

Sex was fun, and it felt good, but I’d never experienced anything like Ambrose staring into my eyes as he pressed himself inside me over and over again.

Calling it sex was a misnomer. What we were doing was transformative.

It turned us from two single people into a single entity. I was him and he was me.

I came so hard that I didn’t have the breath to make a sound, but when it faded, the arousal just crested higher, like I hadn’t orgasmed at all.

I stared at Ambrose in alarm. Something was wrong.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said softly, pulling me with him as he leaned back until I was in his lap, our bodies still connected.

“Ambrose,” I whimpered, rolling my hips as the pleasure intensified. I was getting close again already, the feeling so acute that my skin broke out in goose bumps.

“That’s it, love,” he said, his hand on my hip guiding the movement while he thrust in counterpoint. “That’s it.”

As I came a third time, his fist tugged my head back, and his teeth sank into my neck.

White noise filled my ears as I stared blindly at the ceiling, the sensation going on and on with no respite.

I couldn’t think or breathe even as he lifted his thumb and gripped it with his teeth.

It wasn’t until he shoved that same thumb into my mouth and I closed my lips around it that my eyes fell closed, and I sucked.

My pussy clenched as a new wave rushed over me, and by the time he lowered me gently back to the bed, I was sobbing with relief and exhaustion.

The mating heat had all but disappeared except for a cozy sense of warmth.

Ambrose kissed my mouth. My cheeks. My temples and forehead. My nose.

“That was…” I sniffled and searched for a word that would fit.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against my skin. “Fucking beautiful.”

“It was… a lot ,” I replied, raising my tired arms to run them through his hair. “But beautiful works too.”

“I’m yours,” he said as his lips drifted lazily down my neck and over my collarbone. “And you’re mine.”

The certainty of that sunk in to the tiny places inside me—the ones I kept hidden and refused to look at—like a balm.

He was still hard inside me and eventually began to move again. The next round was languid and intimate, our gazes never veering from each other’s faces as the pleasure built, and we came again. It wasn’t as overwhelming as the first time, but almost better for it.

Once the urgency was gone and the bond between us pulled taut like an unbreakable steel wire, we’d made love.

It was hard to get dressed afterward and nearly impossible to follow Ambrose down the stairs to where the family was gathered in the kitchen.

I’d accepted that Charlie was going to go on this rescue mission, not because I’d been convinced of its merits or because I thought that he needed to do it.

No, it was more basic than that. I’d finally realized that I didn’t have a choice.

He was going to go whether I liked it or not.

I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t expect Ambrose to stop it either. That wasn’t his responsibility.

I was woman enough to realize I’d been outmaneuvered.

Now that we’d completed the bond, it occurred to me that I was potentially as immortal as Charlie, but I didn’t even mention it.

Logically, I knew that bringing in two inexperienced humans was an even worse idea than bringing in just one.

If I was there, the Bouchers’ focus would be split between us. I’d only make Charlie less safe.

Dinner was a pretty quiet affair, and I could barely choke down my food.

Everyone around the table was distracted.

Reese sat with her head resting on Beau’s shoulder, their chairs pulled so close together that there was no space between them.

Alice and Matilda talked about random things, cool as cucumbers.

They didn’t seem concerned at all, and that gave me a weird kind of hope.

“You have to eat, baby,” Ambrose chastised, nodding at my plate.

“I’m not very hungry.”

Ambrose let out a small sigh and nodded, leaning over to brush his lips against my temple.

Fifteen minutes later, I was gripping his hand as he led me to a room I hadn’t even known existed. I paused at the threshold.

It looked like a hospital room. There were two uncomfortable-looking beds in the center, with IV poles and machines set next to them. A large stainless-steel sink hung from the wall in the corner. Shelves and cabinets of supplies lined the walls.

Alice strode past us and went directly to the sink, washing her hands brusquely with a little scrub brush while she hummed under her breath.

Reese and Beau came in behind us. He was murmuring to her soothingly, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. She didn’t want to be here.

I looked at Ambrose as Reese assured Beau that she didn’t need to be sedated. She argued that she could hack it. That she’d rather just wait in a different room, fully conscious. Ambrose shook his head at me and led me over to one of the beds.