Page 11 of Shifting Hearts

ELEVEN

His, Entirely

Paris

T he world is still trembling when I open my eyes.

I can feel him everywhere. His seed is dripping from me, his bite throbbing on my throat, and his scent clinging to every inch of my skin. The bond hums like fire in my blood, so strong I can barely breathe without feeling him inside me.

I should be exhausted. I should be drifting in the haze of afterglow.

But he doesn’t let me.

Ranger is still moving above me, still grinding into me, his cock thick and hard inside my swollen heat. His breath is ragged against my ear, his hands clamped on my hips as though I might vanish if he loosens his grip.

“Mine,” he growls again, rutting deep, his voice rough and raw. “Say it again. Now.” The demand washes through me and more lust crawls through my veins.

A moan slips out before I can stop it, ringing through the forest, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yours. Always yours.”

He snarls in satisfaction, snapping his hips harder, thrusting deeper, and pounding me into the earth until the leaves beneath me are crushed and damp with sweat. Every thrust makes my body sing, every bite of his teeth against my throat burns the claim deeper.

It’s not gentle. It’s not careful. It’s consuming. And I want it. Goddess, I want all of it. Always. And I finally have it.

“Look at me,” he demands, pulling back just enough to cup my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. His storm-grey gaze is wild, his pupils blown wide, and his expression one of feral possession. “No one else. No one will ever touch you again. I’ll kill them.”

The words should terrify me. They don’t. They set me on fire.

“Then take me,” I whisper, lifting my hips to meet him, my body clenching greedily around him. “Take everything. Mark me. Breed Me. Just don’t stop.”

His snarl shakes the night as he flips me, pressing me onto my knees, my chest against the damp earth. His claws rake lightly down my back before he fists my hair, yanking my head back so his teeth can drag over the mark he’s already left.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he growls, slamming into me from behind, deeper this time, brutal and unyielding. My scream echoes through the trees, mingling with his roar.

The bond crackles, surging hotter, tying us tighter together. My panther purrs inside me, sated and wild all at once, finally whole now that we’ve been claimed.

My fangs bury in his skin, returning the mark, and claiming him as mine.

He howls into the forest, the bond snapping something inside him.

He doesn’t stop thrusting into me, feral sounds falling from his lips as he buries himself deep inside me.

Even when I’m a shaking, sobbing mess, clenching around him with another overwhelming orgasm, he keeps driving into me, rutting like he’ll never get enough. Like there’s no such thing as enough.

Because there isn’t. We will never get enough of each other. But I am his. Entirely. Finally.

And the way he takes me…. It’s raw, feral, and endless. Every thrust is his way of claiming me over and over, branding himself inside me and locking us together forever. Heart, body, and soul.