Page 32 of Marked by Alphas 2: Claimed (The Blood Moon Chronicle #2)
His mouth moved to my neck, teeth scraping over my pulse point in a way that made my whole body tingle. “Can smell them on you still,” he rumbled, his voice deeper, more wolflike. “Caleb’s roses. But now you’ll smell like me too.”
One of his massive hands slid up my side beneath my shirt, leaving trails of fire across my skin. When his thumb brushed just under the edge of my ribs, I made a sound that was embarrassingly close to a whimper.
“Perfect,” he growled, capturing my mouth again as his hips rolled against me in a rhythm that had me gasping. “So responsive. So perfect for us.”
The kiss turned savage, all dominance and possession. His tongue moved against mine in a way that made my toes curl, while his hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Every touch left sparks of electricity in its wake, and when he bit down on my bottom lip, I actually moaned.
“Those sounds,” he groaned, voice rough with need. “Drive me crazy. Make me want to—” He cut himself off with another searing kiss, but his hips pressed harder against me, making his meaning crystal clear.
I lost track of time, lost in the sensation of his mouth, his hands, the solid heat of him pressing me into the tree. When he finally set me down, my legs were shaking.
“Jesus,” I breathed, clutching his arms for support.
He looked immensely satisfied as he helped fix my clothes, which were in even worse shape than after Caleb’s attention.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up when Derek returned me to the group. “Your shirt’s buttoned wrong,” he commented casually. “And you’ve got bark in your hair.”
“I hate you,” I moaned, face burning as Derek smirked.
My legs were still embarrassingly wobbly as we made our way back through the festival. The sun had started its descent, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. Paper lanterns were b eing lit throughout the square, adding to the magical atmosphere.
Luke, bless him, pretended not to notice my disheveled state as he steered us toward a row of food stalls that had just opened for the evening crowd. The smells were incredible—a mix of traditional festival food and exotic dishes that definitely weren’t standard fair fare.
“We have to try these,” Luke said, pointing to a stall selling dumplings that literally glowed from within. The vendor, an elegant older woman with eyes that shifted color like opals, smiled knowingly as she handed us samples.
I had just taken my first bite when Marcus materialized beside us. Without a word, he took my hand.
“I’ll return him shortly,” he told Luke, who just waved us off with an exaggerated wink.
His office was on the second floor, overlooking the festival grounds through large windows that turned the fairy lights below into a sea of stars. The door had barely closed before I was pressed against the wall, Marcus’ body caging me in.
“Been feeling everything,” he said, voice rough. “Every kiss. Every touch. Every sound they drew from you.”
My breath hitched. “The pack bond?—”
“Shows me everything.” His eyes were fully amber now, wolf-bright with hunger. “Now it’s my turn to make you fall apart.”
The kiss was pure devastation. Marcus didn’t just claim my mouth—he conquered it, his tongue sweeping in with absolute authority while his hands pinned me against the wall. Where Caleb had been playful and Derek overwhelming, Marcus kissed like he was mapping territory he already owned.
One hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to the perfect angle while the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise. Every stroke of his tongue was deliberate, thorough, design ed to make me surrender completely. When I tried to take control of the kiss, his grip tightened in warning.
“No,” he growled against my mouth. “You’ve been driving us crazy all day. Now you take what I give you.”
Heat flooded my body at his words, and I melted against him. His satisfied rumble vibrated through my chest as he deepened the kiss, showing me exactly what surrender earned. His thigh pressed between my legs, and the sound I made was desperate even to my own ears.
“Been feeling everything,” he murmured, trailing burning kisses down my throat. “Every touch. Every gasp. Every little whimper they drew from you.” His teeth found my pulse point. “But they don’t know how to make you really fall apart. Not like I do.”
Through the windows, festival lights twinkled like stars, and anyone looking up might see us. That thought sent electricity racing down my spine, and Marcus definitely noticed. His laugh was dark and possessive against my skin.
“Let them see,” he growled, sucking hard at the spot where my neck met my shoulder. “Let them all see who you belong to. Who you surrender to.”
His mouth reclaimed mine in a kiss that was pure sin, his tongue moving in a rhythm that made my knees weak. One hand slid down to grip my thigh, hitching it up as he pressed closer, and the friction had me gasping into his mouth.
“Marcus,” I managed between kisses, my voice embarrassingly needy.
“I know, little mate,” he purred, and the pure alpha dominance in his voice made me shiver. “I know exactly what you need.”
His mouth claimed mine again, but this time there was nothing controlled about it.
Marcus kissed like he was trying to consume me, one hand gripping my hair while the other slid beneat h my shirt to map every inch of skin he could reach.
When his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot along my ribs, my whole body arched into him.
“Beautiful,” he growled, taking advantage of my exposed throat.
His teeth scraped along my pulse point before sucking hard, marking me deliberately.
Each bite was followed by his tongue, soothing the sting only to start again somewhere new.
My hands clutched desperately at his shoulders as he worked his way down my neck, leaving a trail of marks that burned like brands.
“Please,” I gasped, though I wasn’t sure what I was begging for. His thigh pressed harder between my legs, creating a friction that had me seeing stars. When he captured my mouth again, the kiss was devastating—all tongue and teeth and alpha dominance that broke what little control I had left.
Marcus seemed determined to mark every inch of exposed skin he could reach.
His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, down my throat, across my collarbone.
Each spot he claimed burned with delicious heat, and the sounds he drew from me were absolutely shameless.
My shirt had been pushed up, buttons somehow undone, giving him access to more skin to mark.
“Mine,” he growled against my chest, and the vibration of his voice combined with another sharp bite had me crying out. “Ours.”
By the time he finally released me, I was thoroughly wrecked.
My shirt was a lost cause, half the buttons missing and the fabric hopelessly wrinkled.
My lips felt bruised and oversensitive, and the trail of marks down my neck and chest would definitely take werewolf healing to fade.
I could barely stand, my legs shaking as Marcus steadied me with a satisfied smirk.
When we rejoined Luke, he took one look at my thoroughly debauched state and burst out laughing .
“Don’t even start,” I warned him, trying unsuccessfully to fix my hair.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Luke said innocently. “Though you might want to borrow a scarf. Or three.”