Her back hit the wall hard, but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel the pain or have that trapped feeling anymore. Mason was touching her! More than touching her, he was giving into her completely!
His hands gripped her shirt roughly, and she tossed her head back and whispered his name as he ground his hard erection against her. His beard scratched at her sensitive skin as he dragged his lips down her neck and bit her hard. Not enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she felt his teeth sink into her skin by millimeters. “I didn’t know,” he rasped out as he pulled the backs of her knees up around his hips. “Boar people don’t do claiming marks like that. I didn’t even give a second thought to your talons on me, woman. Fuck, Beck, say it again. Tell me you claimed me.”
“I claimed you,” she chanted in a desperate murmur. “Mason,” she groaned as the roll of his long, thick erection pressed her just right.
Mason settled her roughly on her feet, gripped her shirt, and then ripped it down the front, popping her buttons all over the laminate flooring. Desperately, she clawed his shirt upward and over his head, and the second he was free of the confining material, his lips were on her again.
Her breasts bounced to freedom as Mason yanked her bra off her arms. She raked her nails down his muscular chest, down the mounds of his taut abs. Damn, she’d never seen someone as perfect as him. Even the long scars on his ribs were sexy as hell. When she leaned forward and clamped her teeth against the raised scar, Mason hissed, then gripped her hair and pulled her in closer, as if he liked the pain. Rough, sexy, snarly beast. She’d had to carefully control her animal with Robbie and act submissive, but Mason could handle her appetites, and right now she wanted to feel him. She didn’t want him gentle—not when both of their animals were riled up like this.
“I want you,” she whimpered, fumbling with the fly of his jeans.
The rumble in his chest grew louder as he shoved his jeans down his hips, unsheathing his thick shaft. Just the weight of it when he pressed it against her belly made her knees buckle with longing. She’d never wanted a man like this. Never wanted to be filled like this. Sex had been about desperation to feel a connection before, but now, it felt like a vital link to touching Mason’s soul. Is this what it was like to actually find a mate?
Gasping when his teeth found her neck again, she rolled her eyes closed and wiggled her hips, helping him shimmy her jeans down her legs. The second she was free of the fabric, their bodies crashed together, and she moaned at how damn good it felt to be pressed up against him. Warmth. Safety. Belonging. All the things she’d craved her entire life was right here for the taking.
Mason dropped sexy biting kisses to her breast, and worked her with that clever tongue of his until her sex pulsed once in delicious anticipation. God, she wanted him inside of her now.
But he had other ideas. Mason dropped to his knees, one hand on her breast, massaging with the perfect rough pressure as he sucked at the skin right over her pelvis, then lower and lower. By the time he pushed her knees wider apart, she was gripping his hair, guiding him, begging him, mewling out helpless pleading sounds. His teeth touched her left inner thigh, and then he clamped harder onto her right. Beck’s knees gave out, but Mason gripped her shoulder in a blur, kept her pressed up against the wall. As she clenched his hair harder, the snarl in his throat sounded damn near like a purr, and the vibration touched her inner thigh. And when Mason looked up at her with those ice blue eyes and that wicked smile, she knew she was done for. As punishment for his tease, she gripped the claiming mark so he would feel her. He winced, but his naughty smile grew wider. And the next time she rocked her hips toward him, he drew her clit into his mouth and just about buckled her over the erotic sensation.
And good gracious, that man knew how to draw an orgasm from her. He worked her into an inferno until she was loud, bowed back against the wall, hips rolling with the pace he set. And as if he knew she was right there, he slid his tongue deep inside of her. Three strokes, and she screamed his name as pulsing release drummed through her, more intense than she’d ever experienced before.
Mason stood, taking her with him, and tossed her on the soft mattress. He pushed her knees wide open as she lifted up to nip at his throat. And that big, dominant razorback boar shifter let her have his neck. If that didn’t show complete trust, she didn’t know what did.
Now her man wasn’t playing around anymore. He wasn’t readying her for his massive size or teasing. Up on locked, muscular arms, Mason settled into the cradle of her hips, trapped her in a fiery gaze, and slammed into her.
“Fuck,” she gasped at how good he felt filling her like this.
Mason drew back slow, and then rammed into her again. He smoothed out his pace and bucked into her gracefully, keeping the pressure building in her middle until she was arching her spine against the bed, begging for more with her body.
“I’m gonna come again,” she warned him breathlessly.
“Wait for me,” he gritted out in a sexy, gravelly voice.
“I can’t, I can’t. Mason!”
He slammed into her faster, deeper. There was a strange feeling in her chest, as if Mason had touched her soul with a hot poker. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth against the pleasure and pain. She knew what this was. It was exactly what had been missing with Robbie. Mason was bonding her to him, and after this she would never be the same. She wouldn’t be able to leave and rip her heart away from him.
Mason winced, and she knew he felt it, too. Her mate. Hers.
He groaned out her name and froze as the first jet of warm seed pulsed into her, heating her from the inside out. She clawed at his back as her second orgasm slammed through her, even more intense than the first. She was falling…or flying. Weightless as pleasure pulsed through her body, warring with the ache in her chest, and then in an instant, the hurt was gone. Mason’s dick throbbed inside of her as he emptied himself.
Lowering his weight on top of her, he slowed his pace and ground out her name. “Beck. My Beck.” His voice sounded too low, too feral to pass as human, and she loved it. Loved this feeling he filled her with.
He moved inside of her until every last aftershock had subsided, and then he rolled over and cradled her to his chest. Mason’s heartbeat drummed against her cheek, and Beck’s face crumbled. Her eyes burned with tears because, God, it felt so good to be cared for. To not be used in the bedroom. To feel accepted and adored and coveted.
“Shhh.” Mason stroked her hair, and his arm around her shoulders went gentle. He rubbed soothing circles right next to her spine, and his lips lingered in her hair.
Was that soft sob hers? Mortified, she squeezed her eyes closed and inhaled his scent, anchored herself in this moment as a tear streamed from the corner of her eye and made a tiny splat against the pillow.
“Please tell me these are happy tears,” Mason murmured in a worried voice.
Beck drew her arms into his stomach and snuggled closer. Mason reacted immediately, hugging her up safe and warm in the circle of his strong arms.
Softly, so she wouldn’t ruin the magic of this moment, she murmured, “I’ve been waiting all my life for you.”
Mason’s heartbeat raced faster, and he swallowed hard. When he spoke, there was a smile in his voice. “You’ve got me now, Beck. You run, I’ll just follow. Beautiful, fierce… woman, you just drew my boar up and bound us.”
“No, Mason.” She smiled and laid a soft kiss against his chest, right over his heart. “We bound each other.”
Chapter Twelve
Mason had gone quiet beside her, tracing the vertebra in her spine as she lay relaxed on her belly. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but the kind that was comfortable. It was the quiet that said he was as lost in this moment as she was.
As his gaze locked on hers, Mason’s lips curved up in that slight smile he’d been giving her for the past half hour. He dragged his fingertip up her back to start at the top of her spine again.
Curiously, she asked, “What are
you thinking about?”
He lowered his lips against her ear and whispered, “I never thought I would get a second chance at this feeling.”
Fluffing the pillow up under her cheek, she said, “Claiming marks don’t mean the same to boar people.”
A frown marred his brows for a second before his face relaxed again. He shook his head and pressed his lips to her shoulder, then rested his cheek on his palm, elbow on the mattress. “I thought owl shifters were extinct.”
“Very rare. Not extinct.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled in that sexy, deep timbre of his.
“Are there lots of boar shifters?”
Mason dipped his chin and traced her shoulder blade. “We number near a thousand.”
“And you were supposed to rule them all?” She frowned. If she had other owls she could talk to and raise her child around, she would’ve done it, but as far as she knew, it was just her mom, Beck, and Ryder. “Why did you leave?”
The smile dipped from his lips, and his eyes went dark and serious. Mason lay on his arm right in front of her and searched her eyes. “Don’t run.”
“I won’t. I just want to know you.”
“We live in groups of ten to twenty called Drifts. Each is run by a dominant boar, but there is one Drift that governs the rest.”
“That was your Drift?”
“My family’s, yes. Bash was right about boar people coveting money. We live well, and there is pressure to find high-paying jobs because paychecks are deposited into the same account for the good of the Drift. It is an honor to be an earner. To be able to provide for your Drift, as well as your mate and offspring.” His eyes darkened with some emotion she didn’t understand. “I was a very good earner. I had a brother, and we competed because, someday, we would battle for dominant boar over all our people. We had to excel in everything. To hold a top position, I had to be perfect. I had to have a high-paying job and a good mate who bore me offspring. Only I fell in love with an intern at the security company my family owned. I ran the company, had a good head for business, and I hired Esmerelda because my boar chose her the second she walked into my office for that interview.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “She was beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes, gorgeous Spanish accent. My human side had nothing to do with it, or I would’ve slowed us down.”
“Why?”
“Because she was human, and boar shifters tend to stay together. I brought her into my Drift knowing she would be treated second-rate. My animal didn’t care about that, though, because every woman I’d been raised around was strong. Tough. Thick-skinned. I assumed Esmerelda was the same.” His lips pursed into a thin line before he murmured, “I was wrong. Her depression presented itself immediately. She swore it was seasonal and tried to hide her mood swings, but within the first few weeks we’d been mated, I got this sick feeling deep down that I couldn’t make her happy. That nothing could. She started feeling the pressure of her station in our Drift. She was supposed to give me piglets and enable me to fight for the dominant boar position. She felt pressure to be perfect. She said having a baby would make her happier, so we tried. And tried and tried, and nothing happened. And the sows in my Drift were awful to her, because boar shifters procreate easily. Fertility problems are rare, and they blamed her for hurting my standing with our people. They wanted me to leave her, like I could just break the bond, and I started to hate them. My brother, Jamison, was the worst. He dug in, hounded her, because he could see hurting her was the best way to hurt me. He was after that dominant boar position, and our trouble conceiving gave him an edge because his mate was not only a sow, but she got pregnant right away. I was losing, but somewhere along the way, I stopped caring as much because I loved Esmerelda.”
Heartbreak slashed through Mason’s eyes as he ran the tip of his finger down Beck’s cheek. “I worked a lot. My instinct to provide for Esmerelda and our future babies kicked up so hard, I couldn’t stop pushing myself. More time at the office, more weekends ruined, and I couldn’t see it, but Essie saw it as me pulling away from her. She couldn’t understand shifter instincts because she wasn’t one. I thought I was being a good mate, setting up a nest egg because I knew that someday we would get pregnant, but to her, she thought I resented her. She thought I was abandoning her. She was crying all the time. Arguing over nothing. She didn’t want me to touch her. Stopped wanting to sleep with me. She would say, ‘What’s the point? I’m broken.’ I didn’t know what to do. I was twenty when we first paired up, young, stupid, head-strong, didn’t understand depression, didn’t understand her. She quit my company, didn’t want to work, didn’t want to get dressed, didn’t want to brush her hair or go out or talk to people. I watched her wither. She became obsessed with these apple trees in our backyard. Just…babied them. Maybe they were her babies while we tried, I don’t know. She was always out there with them, talking to them, pruning them, reading under their branches, obsessing over the fruit and any dead leaf. And one day, I came home from work dog tired, my Drift had been on my ass about offspring, had to fire someone that day, just in my own little world when I walked through the door. I couldn’t wait to unload all my burdens on her because she always made me feel better. So I called her name, and when she didn’t answer, I knew something was wrong. Just knew it.” Mason’s voice hitched, and he took a few seconds before he continued. “I found her in the backyard, hanging from one of the apple trees.”
“Oh, my God,” Beck murmured, pressing her hands over her mouth. “Mason.”
“I went mad after that. Just…” Mason shook his head for a long time, and his eyes went hollow. “I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I blamed my Drift for pushing her over the edge, but mostly I blamed myself for not knowing how to save her. My people started calling for me to prove myself if I still wanted to be in the running. I needed offspring, a mate, something. I was earning, but Jamison had pulled far ahead, and my dad wanted to step down as dominant boar. So he gave me two sows and told me to earn my keep.”
Bile rose in Beck’s throat. She hugged him tight and buried her face against his warm chest. She was a coward and couldn’t watch the phantoms in his eyes anymore.
Mason’s voice dipped to a ragged whisper. “I cared nothing for them. I just wanted Esmerelda back. But I’d stopped feeling somewhere along the way, and it was nice to escape into a rut and focus on breeding them just so I didn’t have to think about how damned broken I was. So I didn’t have to spend nights alone, listening to those goddamned apple trees creaking in the wind outside. By the end of that year, Jamison had me declared The Barrow. Rutting had made me weak. I hadn’t been thinking about food, Changing, fighting, or anything. Just sex. Just this single-minded desperation to prove I wasn’t worthless—for me, for Essie, for my Drift. I wasn’t in any shape to fight and I knew it, but I went ahead and challenged Jamison just to put an end to all the pain. He was the only one who could match my boar. The only one who could send me to Essie with honor.”
Beck’s shoulders shook with her silent crying, and she gently traced the long scars up his ribs.
“Damon found me.” Mason smoothed her hair from her face and hugged her close. “I was lying out in the woods, my people all around watching me bleed out. I’d been split open by Jamison’s tusks, and I remember staring up at the stars, wondering why it was taking so damned long to die. And there was this wind, chaos and fire, and then everything went dark.” Mason kissed her hairline and sighed. “And then I woke up in the dragon’s lair, newly freed from my people.”
“How did he find you?”
Mason shrugged. “I ask him that from time to time, and he just tells me he saved me because he was supposed to save me. The old dragon is full of riddles. I worked as a bodyguard, watching over his daughter, Diem, when she was in college as a favor to the man who had dragged me from the mud, and then when I came back here, I worked for him for different reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Mason eased back and smiled sadly. “Because somewhere
along the way, Damon became my friend. And even though he was quiet, reserved, and emotionless, I saw glimpses of the man he could be. I suspected he was just as broken as me, but I wanted to be there when the dragon rose again.”
“And you were,” she whispered, proud of Mason for overcoming such tragedy and turning into the incredible, loyal, strong, caring man he was today.
Mason ran his fingers through her hair and agreed. “And I was.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked.
“I want to know all your secrets.”
Beck drew his knuckles to her lips and laid a soft peck on his skin. “None of that made me want to run.” She wiped her damp cheek on the pillow and braved a look in his eyes. “It only made me like you more.”
Chapter Thirteen
Beep, beep, beep, beep!
Beck cracked her eye open just in time to watch Mason’s giant hand arch through the air and smash the alarm clock into tiny pieces. The poor contraption made a pathetic last attempt to wake them with a strangled beeeeeep, but then died completely, the glowing green 6:00 am fading to darkness.
Beck pursed her lips to hide her shocked laugh. Apparently Mason wasn’t fully awake. She could tell by the fact that he dragged her body closer to his chest, big-spooned her like a pro, and told her, “I’ll keep you safe, babe.”
From the alarm clock?
Beck turned in his arms and buried her face against his chest, then inhaled his scent. He smelled different when he slept, more like Mason and less like the manly sexpot body spray he used in the mornings. And she freaking loved that she was the one who got to experience this. Mine, mine, mine, her owl hooted possessively.
Mason lifted his powerful leg over her hips and trapped her in his embrace completely, and this right here was her favorite place in the world. Partly because she was pretty sure it was impossible to feel safer than in his big, muscly arms, and two, he had some serious morning wood that conjured all the fun memories of last night.