Chapter 379: When the Time is Right
LERRIN
Suhle took two stumbling steps towards him before he reached her and pulled her into his chest. There was a flash that he should not reach, should not press her—but even as he began to relax his grip, she clung, whimpering and laid her mouth to his.
It was as if his entire skin was washed in starlight. Everything rushed out of him, towards her and something within him broke open, a surge of love and desire, possession and desperation bursting out of his heart and flowing through his veins, racing to fill his muscles, his bones, his skin.
He buried his hands in her hair and held her, kissing her with every ounce of fear and faith within him. Hands shaking, breath shuddering, he forced himself to gentleness when everything within him instinctively wanted to take, to own, to mark and possess.
It was natural for wolves, the most dominant tribe beyond the Pride, to mate with hunger and aggression. Male, female, there was little difference. The indulgence of the flesh among the pack was a bold and uninhibited display of want—appreciated by all parties. It was the reason the wolves rarely inter-bred with other tribes, and even more rarely with prey tribes. Many of the others found them intimidating in the act.
Lerrin knew, he knew, she could not see that in him. She could not find fear in his touch, or a need to protect herself. It would break them before they'd even completed the bond.
That meant he had to protect her. Even from himself.
So even as his body pushed him to own her, to take her, he kept himself on a tight leash, forced his touch to slow and gentle, his kiss to sweetness, to a question, not a demand. Kept his hands in her hair, on her back. Let her cling to him and show him with her body what she wanted. What would not frighten her.
She shook in his arms, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her scent a heady mix of desire and fear and yearning. He let her feel him soften. Pleaded with her to feel the way he wanted nothing bad for her—only joy, only safety. That he would share himself as much or as little as she desired. That he, too, yearned for her, but that he would never take what she did not offer freely.
"Suhle," he breathed, tasting her lips in sips and gentle slides. "You are safe with me."
She arched into him, deepening the kiss, her tongue seeking his, hesitant, but curious.
And she trembled.
"You will always be safe when I am near," he whispered. "Always."
She whimpered again and the sound called to him—tightening his body, even as his throat pinched.
She wanted. She feared. She desired. She braced for pain.
With a groan, he pulled out of the kiss, but didn't let her go. Stroked her hair and found her eyes with his—her wide, bright, shining eyes that locked on his and didn't let go.
His fingers trailing through her hair, he sent to her in that joining of minds that had so confused him at the beginning. But of course… of course she could hear him without barrier. Of course he didn't feel distant.
She truly was his. Made for him. Made with him in mind, and he for her.
Their bond, once cemented, would never be broken.
He gaped at her in stunned silence. "I have been such a fool."
She shook her head. "You are the furthest thing from a fool. You are… Lerrin, you carry too much. Too alone. Let me share it, please. Let me… take some of it so you can walk free."
"I do not deserve you, but I thank the Creator for you."
She dropped his gaze then, her cheeks heating and he grieved the loss of her beautiful eyes. So he cupped her face and slowly, gently brought her back up to him.
"Never take yourself away from me," he whispered. "Please. If I hurt you, if I frighten you, you need only tell me. I will turn from it. I will find the way back to your safety. Please, Suhle, never turn from me."
Her forehead furrowed. He wasn't sure if she would cry. But she put a cool hand to his face and whispered, "You do not frighten me, Lerrin. You are a part of me. I never imagined… never anticipated when I came here… but you are mine."
Joy so sharp it hurt broke from his throat in a whining huff. Unable to resist, he took her mouth again, sucking in when their lips touched, wrestling with himself to keep himself restrained.
But as he held himself in check, Suhle seemed to do the opposite, her hands clawing at his back, her lips demanding, breath hot. She sought him, insistent, pressing herself into him until he worried he would find his release before he'd even taken her.
The thin fabric of her nightdress was the only thing between them, and it tickled at his thighs, rubbed against his stomach, raising gooseflesh on his skin.
He fisted it at her back, arguing with himself about whether or not to lift it. She had never seemed afraid of his nakedness—most Anima were completely unconcerned about the nakedness of another before them. But once he'd known about her experiences, he hadn't been sure whether she was truly comfortable, or merely forcing herself to calm.
Yet, here she was, first cupping his ass, then trailing one hand—slowly, hesitantly, but with intention—up his back until he wanted to arch into it like a cat.
Lerrin shook, his breath shuddering in her mouth and she clung to him. She gave every signal of a female ready to mate—albeit, one without the aggression and boldness typical of a wolf. But he needed to be certain. And so did she.
So slowly, gently, he turned her, walking her backwards towards the bed, their legs pressing, moving in time, their weight shifting. And when she moved with him, sighing into his mouth, he prayed her skin prickled as his did with the promise of what was to come.
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