Change of Heart 05 - Forging the Future by Mary Calmes

only find this man, but to then make him mine? It was beyond all imagining that the blond from my dreams actually belonged to me.
    “Jin,” he said softly, and I realized from the gentleness of his tone and the sudden tenderness in his eyes that Logan Church’s control was absolute. In the midst of desire that was scorching both of us, he was stopping to talk to me.
    I swallowed hard, waiting.
    “I need to mark you, and while it won’t hurt because I’m your semel and you’re my reah, I know you don’t remember how this all works, so I don’t want to scare you. There’s going to be some blood and—”
    “I don’t care,” I rasped, lifting my arms, holding them open for him. “I know whatever we do, here, just us, is right. I trust the bond, and I trust you.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “And don’t say I just met you.” I sighed as he bent into my waiting arms. “Because the man may have no memory, but the panther inside is rejoicing.”
    “As is mine,” he rumbled into my ear. He hugged me close, burying his face in my hair for only seconds before I felt his fangs where my neck and shoulder joined. It didn’t occur to me to be scared or to tell him to stop or to do anything that might make him hesitate or have to soothe me anymore. I wanted the bite; I wanted him to drink my blood; I wanted him to hold me down and sink his teeth into me at the same time he sank inside my body.
    “Fuckin’ mark me!” I begged.
    He lifted off and flipped me to my stomach, my jeans and briefs shredded under his claws before he moved fast for the nightstand.
    When I heard the snap of the lube opening, I knew what Crane had put in the house and blessed him for his foresight. It hit me then what Logan was about to do, and I had to see, so I twisted my head around to watch my mate coat his shaft in preparation.
    He was magnificent. From the huge swollen head to the thick-veined shaft to his heavy balls, the man was beautifully made, gold all over, covered in rippling muscle that was sleek and sinewy over his arms and legs, and solid on his chest and carved abdomen. He was a shifter, so there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, and everywhere was cut and hard. I was dying to kiss and lick and bite every inch of skin, wanting to simply worship his big, strong sculpted body.
    He wrenched me to my hands and knees by my hair, yanking my head back so my spine bowed, and my ass lifted, and without spreading my cheeks or using his fingers to open me up, he simply pressed inside.
    It felt like he was splitting me apart. The pressure, the pain, I clenched my hands in the comforter, gritted against the splintering, stabbing ache of the unending breach.
    I couldn’t catch my breath. I opened my mouth to scream, to make him stop, to get him out and off of me, but he tilted on the next descent and rubbed the tangle of nerves inside me and sent electricity sparking across my skin in a hurtling wave. He then curled over my back and stroked me from balls to head, quick and dirty, bringing my flaccid cock back to aching hardness in seconds before his fangs pierced my shoulder.
    “Oh,” I moaned, loud and hungry. The man knew me, knew my body, knew where to touch, knew how to incinerate me and then make me whole again.
    His bite, the smell of my blood, my hole stretching around his enormous shaft, and his furious thrust and retreat, again and again, each time harder, more savage until he was buried inside me, balls to my ass, brought his name to my lips in a prayer demanding his pledge to never leave me.
    “No,” he ground out, his voice changed, now a rumbling growl. “We will never be parted again, and I will make sure. You won’t like what I’m going to do, but there’s no choice.”
    I wanted to ask, but my body was shivering with the beginnings of my orgasm, my muscles tightening around his impressive length, wanting him deeper even as he bottomed out inside of me.
    “You ask too much if you expect me to live and not have your sweet eyes