Page 21 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss

Just as I begin to think he can’t get any bigger, Valentino pulls me up from his chest. He slams my body down onto his and begins to rock us together.

His knot presses hard on my clit, building a need inside me.

I’m gasping for air again, unable to think beyond chasing the feeling.

His thumb slides between us, spreading me wider until he’s flicking my clit.

My eyes roll back, my body screaming as my lower belly tightens until the world explodes.

My pussy gushes, spasms, and sets off a chain reaction.

Valentino drives deeper into me as I orgasm.

A moan falls from his mouth as his cock shoots ropes of cum into me.

His hips shake, and we collapse into each other.

I’m not sure how long we lie there, but his body slowly transforms back into a man. His claws massaging my back turn into fingers. His fur recedes to reveal his soft chest again. The muzzle kissing at my shoulder turns into a soft pair of lips.

It’s an easy transition from monster to man. Nothing terrifying this time, even as his bones crack and he shrinks beneath me. It all just feels right.

Except when his cock slides out of me and I’m left holding on to nothing. I groan, the ache of being stretched so far and the feeling of cum sticking to my thigh too much after the time I’ve had.

“We should get out of here,” he murmurs.

“Junelle will be furious if we miss the wedding.”

“Gotta shower and nap first.” He yawns.

“Take me to your suite then,” I say, kissing him.

We hadn’t forgotten about the wedding, it’s more that we forgot it was happening at the villa.

There is a swarm of vans around the drive and flurries of people moving at a fast pace carrying trays and flowers and linens.

They’re all trying to get this wedding day back on track.

Ugo drives us up to the front door, and barks at everyone to scatter before Valentino lets me out of the car.

The shirt he stole from one of the corpses is barely long enough to cover my ass, but it does the job, and I won’t have to wear it for long .

Junelle is right there in her bonnet and pristine white wedding robe. She wraps her arms around me without hesitation, the blood on my shirt tacky and mostly dry. We cry big, fat ugly tears. Somewhere behind us men are talking, but they don’t matter right now.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she sniffles.

“I won’t,” I promise. “Not in a million years do I wanna do that again.”

“So you know now,” she says after another round of crying. “Explains a lot, doesn’t it?”

I nod because of course it doesn’t, but I’m too relieved to be back on solid ground to care about all the questions I still have. Junelle let go of our embrace only to pull me into another hug. Neither of us can stop crying, but soon my head starts to pound and my ears are ringing.

“We need to get inside,” Valentino whispers to us. “And you have a wedding to get dressed for.”

He and Andrea usher us back into the house, splitting us in the foyer as Junelle goes to get cleaned up and to continue all her wedding prep. Valentino picks me up bridal style at the base of the stairs and carries me all the way to the shower in his suite.

Even as he turns the water on, he doesn’t put me down.

“You’re going to have to let me go so we can clean up,” I say.

He grumbles but does it. Valentino removes my clothes carefully before pulling the shower head down.

Blood melts from our skin as the warm water cascades around us.

He does all the work: rinsing, washing, shampooing, conditioning, washing again to make sure there isn’t a speck of our last twelve hours on us.

His touch is gentle as he dries us off, he even applies lotion to my skin.

I feel like a whole new person by the time I’m sitting with my back against the headboard.

“Your neck’s bruising pretty badly,” he mutters. “Let me get you some ice.”

“Ibuprofen too, please.” I yawn.

Valentino doesn’t leave the room. Instead, he leans his head out the door and shouts. Within moments he has what he asked for.

“Were you raised in a barn?” I take the water and pills offered to me.

It’s harder to swallow than I realised it would be.

There’s a very disturbing part of me that wants to take notes on these feelings.

Write everything down even though I will remember what this feeling is like for the rest of my life.

“No,” he huffs, scowl firmly set on his face. This might be the grumpiest I have seen him all vacation, which feels insane given that he beat the shit out of a guy. This should be the time when he smiles, right? I survived and he successfully rescued me. Happily ever after acquired.

Valentino gently places a towel filled with ice at the base of my neck.

I suck in a sharp breath as a chill runs down my spine.

He keeps staring at me, eyes unwavering as I slowly adjust to the cold.

He holds my hands in one of his while he watches me.

For a long while, I stare back at him, waiting to see what he’ll do or say.

When it feels like an eternity has passed and icy droplets dribble down to my navel, I break the tension.

“So, are you born that way?” I ask.

“No,” he grunts.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only the first time. You need to rest your voice, Cheyenne, and try to sleep.” His tone suggests I listen, but I take it as what it is, a suggestion.

“What came first? The mob or the wolfie?”

“The wolf, but we’ve been in this business for a very, very long time.”

“Stability is good.” I crack a smile. “So, is it like the meme? Do you have two wolves inside of you?”

“Fuck’s sake, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, but I can tell he’s trying not to smile. “It’s still me when I’m in my wolf. I’m just bigger and hairier and more myself, I guess. ”

“Is everyone but me and Junelle a wolf?” I settle down at his insistence. Definitely making a mental note about bondage though.

“No, all the mates here are still human. It’s a weird magic biology thing. When we bite our mates, they become tied to us instead of turning.”

“What’s a mate?” I think I know the answer to this, but I want him to tell me, anyway. No more secrets.

“It’s a fated, celestial bond between a supernatural creature and a human. Werecreatures know our mates by scent. The night you arrived at the villa, I was in the woods, and I could smell you. I knew you were mine right then and there.”

“There are more than just werewolves?” My eyes become heavy with exhaustion, but my curiosity is begging me to stay awake. I want to know everything. A new layer of the world has revealed itself to me. The analytical side of my brain wants to discover it all.

“Close your eyes, and I’ll start listing them off,” Valentino whispers, a smile finally cracking on the corner of his lips. Once my eyes are closed, he pulls the covers up over me and starts to list them softly. “Wolves, bears, bison, gators, boars…”

I wake with a start, my body locking up as a warm arm pulls me in tighter.

Valentino hums behind me until my brain has caught up with the fact I’m not in a cage anymore.

The abyss I felt hours ago threatens to swallow me whole again.

My body aches with an emptiness, a need to feel claimed and reclaimed.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Valentino whispers.

There are blankets between us though, soft and warm, but the opposite of what I need.

I want his skin on mine. I want his rough hands to grip the parts of me I haven’t learned to love yet while he tells me I’m his.

I want to have all of him crush me into his bed until he is the only thing I can see.

“Should I be more scared?” I ask, trying to push my heated thoughts to the side.

“What do you mean?” Valentino cups my cheek as I roll to face him. He’s still naked, but from the dark circles under his eyes, he hasn’t taken a nap like I have.

He peels the covers back and pulls me into his lap. He cradles me into his chest, but this isn’t the comfort I need right now. And that’s what scares me. I feel almost normal. The only thing about me that doesn’t feel the same as yesterday afternoon is that my throat hurts.

“I watched a pack of werewolves kill two other werewolves, and you ate a man’s heart!” I say, flabbergasted. “Shouldn’t I be a little grossed out or worried?”

“Wolves don’t really get blood-borne illnesses, so I mean that’s not a concern. But as for being scared, I will do whatever it takes to make you feel safe, Cheyenne.”

“That is the most realistic experience I could ask for as a writer. But this is what I mean. I’m not that traumatised.”

“Do you want to be?”

“No,” I whine.

“Take this as a sign from the universe.” He smiles as he kisses my forehead. “You’re exactly as prepared as you need to be, and right now all we need to do is get dressed and enjoy a wedding.”

“Will you dance with me?”

“Until the end of time,” he promises.