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  She offered no resistance and leaned into my touch. My hand crept higher, over her thin waist and under her confining sports bra.

  Then I grasped one of her breasts. It was so round and soft—too much for my big hand to hold, and I loved it. Keeping my hand squeezing hard, I ran my thumb over her nipple. Celeste moaned and growled at my touch.

  Desperate to suck on her tits, I dropped my hand and pulled up her shirt and bra. Her breasts were bare to the cold air. I put my mouth to one of her nipples and sucked hard.

  “Oh God!” she breathed, putting her hands on my shoulders and leaning back. “I’ve never felt… oh God!”

  Her nipples were super sensitive. I licked and nibbled both.

  Could I make her come just by playing with her breasts? I knew that some women could.

  Wait…

  Something snapped into place in my lust-addled brain. My inner wolf was happy. Content. Satisfied. Being with human women in the past never resulted in that.

  I pulled back and looked at Celeste. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were clamped shut.

  “Celeste! Celeste, look at me,” I ordered, reaching all of my instincts out to her.

  “Mmmm?” She moved her head towards me and opened her eyes. “What’s up? Why did you stop? That felt so good.”

  My eyes found hers and it felt like my heart stopped.

  Her eyes were glowing neon blue.

  Celeste was a werewolf.

  I couldn’t breathe and stumbled under her weight.

  I didn’t realize it sooner because I couldn’t smell her.

  I had found a mate. I had found my mate!

  After years of being alone, it was too much to handle.

  My legs gave out and we both fell to the ground.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Celeste

  For some reason, we both fell. I slammed into Mason’s stomach and all the air left his lungs in a loud huff. I pulled my legs out from under him and jumped to my feet.

  “Oh my God! Mason, are you okay?” I asked.

  He lay on the cold, muddy ground, wheezing, with one hand over his chest. His eyes were wide and never left my face.

  My anxiety was climbing.

  Had I done something wrong?

  Was he sick?

  What happened?

  One minute his mouth was on my breasts and the next we were falling to the ground.

  I shuffled my feet and opened and closed my hands nervously.

  Should I touch him?

  Should I call for help?

  “Mason, are you okay?” I begged of him again. “Say something. You have me really worried!”

  He grabbed his face in agony, rolled and turned his back to me. His big body shook.

  “I’m fine, Celeste,” he grunted.

  His voice sounding strangled.

  “Just give me a minute.”

  I reached out to touch his back. He seemed to sense my movement and scooted out of reach. I pulled my hand back quickly, because it almost felt like I had been burned.

  Could he literally not stand my touch anymore?

  What had I done wrong?

  “Just give me a minute, Baby,” he panted. His voice was still strained but I could tell he was trying to sound more cheerful. “Let me get myself together.”

  He called me baby!

  I felt a blush rush to my cheeks, and I raised my hands to cover my smile.

  No man had ever called me that.

  Mason rose to his feet, his back still to me, and took a few deep breaths. When he turned around, it looked like there were tears in his eyes, but he wiped them away quickly.

  Making my face look serious, I got rid of my goofy smile and raised an eyebrow at him.

  He closed the distance between us and put his hands on my shoulders.

  I looked up into his dark brown eyes. They seemed to glow amber a bit.

  Odd.

  I looked down, blinked my eyes and then looked up again.

  The amber light was gone.

  It must have just been my imagination.

  “I’m sorry that happened, Baby.”

  He took my jaw in his hands and ran a thumb over my cheek.

  “I guess…I guess you just got me too excited.”

  He smiled and chuckled weakly at his explanation.

  “So, I didn’t do anything wrong?” I glanced down, worried about what his answer was going to be.

  His breath caught and his eyes were wide when I looked up at him.

  “God no, Celeste. You’re…you’re so,” he stuttered. “Honey, you are an angel and I am truly blessed that you even let me touch you.”

  He leaned down and planted a quick, gentle kiss on my lips. I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him more, but he pulled back.

  “I think we are moving a bit too fast,” he explained. “I don’t want to rush you.”

  I wanted to tell him not to worry about it and to take me then and there, but I didn’t. Part of me was still worried that I was doing something wrong because I had never done anything like this before, and if he thought we should wait, then maybe we should.

  I didn’t really like the idea, though.

  He kissed me on the forehead and pulled me close. His arms were so warm and comforting. I could stay wrapped in them forever. But he pulled back and took my hand.

  “Let’s head back, okay?” He looked down at me lovingly. “I’m starving and I’m sure your parents are starting to wonder where we are.”

  I nodded, but my feet weren’t ready to move. Our little interim in the woods had been the best moment of my life, except for when he had fallen, and things had turned a little weird.

  But now things seemed to be better than ever between us. I wasn’t ready to leave that dream. I wasn’t ready to give up on losing my virginity then and there.

  “Come on, Celeste.” Mason pulled me forward, then dropped my hand and started running back down the dirt trail.

  I supposed I had no choice.

  I watched how his long legs moved, then stared at the broadness of his shoulders. My pussy ached.

  Sure, we would wait, I decided.

  But not very long.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Celeste

  Dinner with my parents was quiet and hurried. Dad still couldn’t get out of bed, so the three of us ate up in their room. Dad had a tray to put over his lap. Mom and I used their large wooden dresser as a table.

  The kale stew that Mom made was bland and needed more meat, but I praised it as I always do for anything that she makes. She didn’t smile at my compliment. I hardly think she heard me.

  Her narrow face was pulled tight in worry and she barely took her eyes off my father. He was still very bruised and broken.

  Dad, however, tried to act normal. I wasn’t sure how much pain he was in, but he put on a brave face.

  He led us through prayers and asked me how the bakery was doing. I told him everything was wonderful and explained to them all about how Mason ran off the Southland Gang.

  I didn’t mention the run we took after. Or anything that happened during that run, of course.

  At the news about the fight, Dad just nodded his head solemnly. He didn’t seem pleased but he also seemed resigned to let me deal with the situation in my own way for a while—at least until he got better.

  My mother kept her mouth shut, but her eyes opened wide at my description of how Mason pummeled the three gangsters.

  I think she was trying to not smile in my father’s presence. He changed the subject quickly.

  “We are supposed to bake apple strudel tomorrow morning for the church,” Dad said.

  We always brought pastries to church meetings and events, free of charge.

  “You will have to get up at five in the morning to start the dough, Celeste. Can you handle that?”

  I had been up earlier in the past few days, so I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Yes, Sir,” I said. “I can handle that. Please don’t worry. I
promise you that I am running the bakery just as you would, Sir.”

  Dad smiled at me and nodded.

  “Just rest and get better.”

  I rose to my feet and gathered the dishes.

  “You too, Mom. Why don’t you stay up here and keep off your feet? I will handle the dishes and make a pot of tea.”

  Mom didn’t say anything, but she did relax into her chair a bit, so I knew that my offer was accepted and appreciated. As I walked towards the door, my arms full of dishes, Dad caught my arm. I looked back at him.

  “Thank you, Celeste. You are a good daughter,” he whispered and nodded towards my mother.

  I looked over. She was already asleep. The stress of the last few days had really been too much for her.

  “Forget about the tea, love,” my dad added. “Just turn off the lights.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whispered, and I did so.

  Balancing the tray of dishes on my hip, I shut their door quietly as I could. My heart was racing, and I could barely contain my smile. With Mom already asleep, I had hours with Mason alone.

  I did feel a little guilty, thinking of the way he had told me I was a good daughter. Praise was hard to come by in this house, so it was ironic that I’d received some right after doing something they would definitely not agree with. But more than the guilt, I felt exhilaration and desire.

  I worked my way down the stairs and though the double doors to the kitchen. Mason was inside, standing at the counter and eating his own bowl of soup. He didn’t seem to mind not being included in family dinners.

  He looked up at me as I crossed the room to the sink.

  “How’s your father?” he asked.

  “He’s okay. He still can’t stand, but the bruising has gone down. Mom seems exhausted. She fell asleep right after dinner.”

  I set the tray on the counter and started the hot water.

  “Poor woman.” Mason shook his head. “Nursing like that really requires a professional.”

  I let out a breath in a deep sigh.

  “I know, but they don’t believe in going to doctors or hospitals. Their religion prevents it.”

  I took a bowl, dipped it in the hot water, and began to wash it.

  “Their religion?” Mason asked.

  I could feel his gaze on my back.

  “Not yours?”

  I thought a bit about my word choice.

  “No, I guess not.” I shrugged. “It’s the only religion I’ve ever been exposed to, but it doesn’t seem quite right for me. They’ve taken me to The Church of the Path of God every Sunday since I was three—when they adopted me—but I can’t say that it means to me what it means to them. You know?”

  I turned to look at him and he nodded.

  “You know that you were adopted?” he asked carefully.

  I giggled. “Yeah, they’ve always been open about that, and hell, it’s not like I look like either one of them. Quite the opposite, really.”

  I ran hot water over the soapy bowl and then set it into the drying rack.

  “Do you remember your birth parents?”

  Mason came over to my right side, grabbed the bowl in the drying rack and a towel and proceeded to dry it properly.

  I grinned, glad to have him close to me.

  “No, not really,” I explained. “It’s all a jumble of memories. I must have been too young.”

  He murmured something under his breath and shook his head.

  “Does that make you sad?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t feel anything about it, really.”

  I rinsed the next bowl and handed it directly to him.

  “It just is what it is. My parents have given me a nice home and a decent life. Sure, they are a little stricter than I could like, and sometimes their words sting, but they love me. They did their best to raise me.”

  Mason nodded as he dried the next bowl. We worked silently for a moment. I loved working with him; it came so easily. We finished up the dishes I brought down.

  “Grab your bowl, if you’re done,” I told him.

  Mason did as I suggested. He slurped down the rest of his soup as he walked back towards me, but he didn’t take the same spot at my side. Instead, he came up behind me and pressed his strong body into my back.

  His hands wrapped around my sides. The bowl slipped from his grip and into the soapy water.

  My breath caught. Mason pulled my hair to one shoulder and put his lips to my neck. His arms wound their way around my waist, and he held me.

  I leaned back against him and enjoyed his warmth.

  “Celeste,” he breathed into my hair. “What about a husband?”

  My whole body froze.

  Did he really just ask that?

  Goosebumps rose on my skin and I couldn’t breathe.

  “Will your parents let me marry you, since I am outside of your religion?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. This had to be a dream.

  Did he really just bring up marriage?

  We just met. But I already knew what my answer would be if he asked formally. It was the strangest thing, but I felt drawn to him from the moment I saw him—in a way that I never had been drawn to anyone else.

  Not just because I was a virgin wanting experience and rarely had any opportunity to gain any. No—it was something fiercely primal.

  “Do you want that?” I stuttered. “Do you want to marry me?”

  Mason didn’t say the words, but he nodded with his head against mine.

  “I want you,” he whispered. “Forever.”

  My brain short circuited and panic set in. This was all happening so fast. I didn’t want to be naïve. It seemed too good to be true.

  I pulled out of his arms and backed up a bit, leaning into the counter.

  “I…” I started, but no other words would come out of my throat.

  Mason took in my panic and looked at me lovingly. His chocolate chip colored eyes were warm. A slight smile pulled his lips up.

  He reached forward, putting one hand on my shoulder and the other grasped my jaw.

  “Oh, Honey,” he said. “I’ve moved too fast. Let’s put that discussion on the shelf for now and we will talk about it again when you are ready. Okay, Baby?”

  I nodded.

  My face was warm, there were tears in my eyes, and my body was frozen in place. I couldn’t move or think. This was all so wonderful. It was overwhelming.

  “Don’t pull away from me, Celeste,” Mason begged. “I couldn’t stand that. I’m sorry I brought up something so serious so soon. Let’s just relax.”

  He dropped his hands from me and moved back to the sink. He washed his bowl and dried it quickly.

  I took the moment to get myself together and made sure I could breathe again. Suddenly, the distance between us was unbearable. I crossed the kitchen and threw my arms around his neck.

  Mason smiled down at me.

  Then he kissed me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Celeste

  I had kissed Mason maybe three times before and I loved every second of it, but now I was ready for more. My pussy ached from the encounter in the woods earlier in the evening and I was done with going slow.

  The time had come, and I was going to lose my virginity tonight. It was fitting, since it was almost Valentine’s Day. Some would even say it was romantic.

  My fingers wound into Mason’s brown waves and I pulled his mouth down closer to me. My tongue parted his lips and sought his, twisting and turning around it.

  I kissed him desperately. My desire took over, causing my lips to press into his, hard. I sucked his tongue, telling him—displaying to him—that I could do that to his dick, and I wanted to.

  I could feel the breath go out of his lungs for just a second as he adapted to my surprise attack. But Mason rebounded quickly. One strong hand grabbed my hair and twisted his fingers in it deeply. The other pressed into the small of my back; pushed me to his body, chest to chest, groin to groin.

  He gu
ided me, as if we were dancing, and shoved me up against the kitchen counter. I was trapped between his large, muscular body and the cabinets behind me. But I didn’t mind. I loved the feeling and pulled him closer into my arms.

  My hands were everywhere at once. For a second, they were buried in this hair. Then they moved to his broad, strong shoulders and gripped them tightly. Finally, they flowed down his strong chest, over rounded, hard pecs, to the top of his stomach, where his abs rose up beneath my fingers.

  They felt as good as I had imagined they would. No, they felt even better. Mason was strong and powerful, and he wanted me. The very idea made my breath catch.

  Mason guided me back further. He grabbed my hips and raised me up until my butt slid onto the kitchen counter.

  My legs, free of my weight, wound around his waist, right at the edge of his pants, and pulled him closer, until our crotches met. Only pieces of fabric separated our sex. Suddenly, I wanted that fabric gone.

  I broke our urgent kissing and pulled the t-shirt he was wearing over his head. His skin beneath was a light shade of tan, which I expected, but the scars, I did not.

  His beautifully sculpted torso was crisscrossed with red angry tares. I touched one gently and looked up at his face.

  Mason smiled. His cheeks were pink, so he was slightly embarrassed. Taking the hand that was touching the damaged flesh, he brought it to his lips. He kissed and sucked each one of my fingers.

  “Life on the streets is hard, Celeste,” he told me, after a breath. “I hope you do not find me ugly.”

  I shook my head and put my hand back to his chest.

  “Oh no, I think you’re incredibly sexy.”

  My voice choked a little over the words.

  I had never said something so bold to a man before.

  “I like your body—scars and all.”

  His smile was wide and beautiful, and he ducked his head quickly to hide it from me. My words had made him feel good. I was pleased.

  “I like your body, too,” he told me, pulling the neck of my sweater to the side and kissing the bare skin of my shoulder. “I like it a little too much.”

  To emphasize his point, he pushed his crotch towards mine again. I shuttered at the feeling of it. His cock was hardening in his pants. It was raised up and fighting to be free of its confines.