My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

Graeme pulled August into him, savoring the soft warmth of her as he ran his hands through her hair. The familiar desire for her that he had been pushing down erupted to the surface again. Finally she understood what he had felt for her from the moment he first sensed her. That she was part of him—and he wanted to give her every part of himself in return. He wanted to feel every part of her who was his to treasure and protect and love.

He pushed back the robe from her shoulders and trailed a hand down the curve of her back as he continued to kiss her. And kissing her—kissing her was the Goddess' own gift. Her warmth welcomed him there where their tongues entangled in preview to more—more of her warmth, more of his boundaries blurring into her own.

A soft growl arose in his chest as he cupped the side of her head and kissed her deeper, and August responded with soft noises that puttered against him, striking him to his core. He pulled her closer until her electrifying skin was against his and he felt her shiver in his arms.

"Graeme," she suddenly pulled away, panting softly against him. He paused to scan her eyes, watching the beautiful stardust glisten deeply with desire for him, but there was also worry there. Her hands trailed up his arms until she was running them along the rough texture of his beard. "Are you sure?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

He groaned and bit his lip, which caused her to chuckle. "Am I sure about what?" he grabbed one of her hands and kissed the palm of it. "That you're my mate? That I want you?" he whispered with his eyes squinted closed, pushing his desire back before opening them again to reveal the deep warmth that was there searching her.

"Are you sure that you can… trust me?" she looked so guilty and ashamed saying it that it caused his heart to stutter. She felt guilty for things that she had no control over—of the experiment she was unknowingly a part of, of the history in his pack, of the ignorance she had heard from the elders in the council. A defensiveness of her crested somewhere in his chest, and he wished he could bite someone responsible. She shouldn't feel guilty for any of it.

"Yes," he whispered, "I trust you. August, you're a part of me. You said so yourself. I felt it in the forest when I found you. I knew it then, and I'm even more sure of it now. I love you, August Moon," he breathed, intertwining her fingers with his. Her eyes went wide, and he bowed his forehead to meet hers. Her lips began trembling, and he ran a thumb over them before kissing her gently.

"I love you, too, Graeme. I do," her breath fanned out against his face, and he closed his eyes feeling it—her breath and her love that was like the sun. He could follow it blindly, always being certain of her gravity that pulled on every part of him.

Graeme opened his eyes and stared back into the stardust of his mate's. "You're so precious," he whispered and swallowed a lump that was suddenly in his throat. "Every part of you. I don't—I don't deserve you being here. I don't understand it."

August placed her hands over Graeme's, which were now caressing her face. "Yes, you do. You deserve everything. You deserve better," tears had started to escape as she spoke these words that she knew to be true after seeing and feeling Graeme the way she had the previous night. He was truly glorious—the way he moved through the forest and it responded. The presence and power he had that she felt inside of her as if it were her own—so many times now. Her breath caught remembering that feeling. His strength within her.

"Don't cry, my love," he wiped the tears from her cheeks and captured her lips in his again.

August groaned against him and ran her hands down the muscles of his arms before clawing at him, drawing him in closer as her body rose to meet him. Graeme did the same, clutching her desperately against him, feeling the sweetness of her tongue against his and her soft skin pressed against his own. She fit him perfectly, tucked into him—her curves softening his angles. And everything else fell away.

The universe tunneled into only the intensity between them and the explosion of sensation everywhere they aligned. Graeme gently tilted her chin up and kissed his way down the pale column of her neck, fighting against his teeth that wanted so badly to puncture her and meld them together indefinitely. Her scent intensified, curling around him and mixing with his as she clutched his hair.

Graeme ran a hand up one side of August's neck and his mouth down the other side—his other hand at her lower back, pulling her closer as she arched into him. That same low rumble in his chest called to her, and she stifled a whimper as everything in her reached for him, wanting him as close as he could be.

"August," he whispered against her neck, his voice sounding pained. Before her voice could find itself and respond, her fingers gripped and tugged him in reassurance to whatever he was asking. The answer was yes—the answer would always be yes.

And then there was a knock on the door.

Graeme froze, his lips against her neck as she panted quietly above him. She dropped her head, removing his access to that perfect spot that called to him, and he felt her clutch him tighter as they silently gazed at each other, both of them wondering who was at the door and both refusing to move to find out. In the sudden stillness, their twin breaths huffed softly, the thrill of their certainty to each other still blooming large around them, curling up into the air as they remained in each other's arms.

The knock came again, this time accompanied by Greta's chipper voice. Graeme growled in response for only August to hear before kissing her smiling lips again—slow and sweet and then with a soft tug at her bottom lip, sending one final bolt of electricity through her.

"Unbelievable timing," he groaned before reluctantly releasing her from his arms and rolling off the bed. "Five minutes, sis!" he yelled toward the door as he walked to his closet. August watched his muscles roll deliciously before she came to her senses.

"Oh, she's here with Sam and his mom," she gasped, scrambling out of bed to get dressed herself.

Graeme grunted. "I wish they would fuck right off," he murmured just for her to hear, his eyes glinting with mischief as he watched his naked mate pulling clothes from her closet.

"Don't say that!" August gasped, quickly slipping into her undergarments and pulling her clothes on.

Graeme walked to where she was hopping to pull socks on. "I'm kidding of course," he said, pulling her by the waist so he could capture her lips in his once more. He growled softly again. "Okay, I'm not kidding. Let's send them away."

She laughed at his sudden shamelessness, pushing against him playfully so she could slip past him into the bathroom. "No. Be nice," she said for him to groan.

"I'll get the door," he grumbled.

August glanced at herself in the mirror as she splashed water on her face. The heaviness in her chest pushed itself back into her awareness as she was brushing her teeth, and she had to stop and grip the counter for a moment. 'It's not the virus,' she reminded herself, pushing the instinctual fear down. What then? Why couldn't things just be simple for once? It was the purest form of happiness and peace she had ever felt being in Graeme's bed in his arms under his adoring eyes, but it seemed nothing came without a tradeoff.. She sighed and walked out to meet their visitors.