Passion and Pain

WILLOW

I barely had time to breathe before Connor pinned me to the wall.

His mouth crashed into mine, and the world narrowed to heat, tongues, and hands. His body pressed against me, and I arched into him, seeking, needing, lost already. He held me up high and steady, making me forget that gravity existed.

My back scraped against the cool stone of the wall, but I couldn’t care. Not when he was devouring me. Not when his hips rolled into me with relentless force, unstoppable and willing.

“Connor,” I gasped, my head falling back as his lips trailed down my neck, hungry and reverent all at once.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his breath hot against my skin. “No more waiting. No more pretending we’re not everything to each other.”

I nodded, too breathless for words, causing him to grind himself between my legs.

His manhood pressed against me in that magical spot, and stars burst behind my eyelids. My wolf howled beneath my skin. Impatient and wild, her claws scraped the inside of my bones, ready to tear through for him.

He carried me to the bed and laid me down with care. His energy shifted, and his frenzy gave way to worship. He brought my shirt over my head and ran his hands over every inch of skin, every scar, seemingly committing it to memory.

He peeled off the rest of my clothes with maddening slowness, brushing kisses over skin that had never been kissed. Never been touched without an edge of hatred or punishment or control.

But his contact carried something else entirely.

Possession.

It didn’t take long before I was trembling with need, heat, and something so much deeper than lust. I pulled him down to me, desperate to feel his weight, his warmth, the solid realness of him. My fingers tugged off his shirt and danced over his firm back.

He hovered over me, between my legs, and my gaze raked down his body until it fell on his pants. My hands acted before I could think, releasing him from behind the strained fabric. Slowly, he crawled backward off the bed, stood, and completely undressed.

My eyes didn’t know which part to look at first—his dark, lust-filled eyes, his rippling muscles, or his thick, long manhood and its weeping tip.

Panic coiled in my core; there was no way that would fit inside me.

Connor must’ve sensed my shift in mood because he smirked, knelt on the bed, and placed his hands on my legs. “Don’t worry, Willow. If it hurts at any time, we can stop, okay?”

His penis twitched, drawing my attention, and my breath caught.

In a good way.

Arousal replaced my panic, and I bit my lip, ready for him. “Okay,” I said.

He was on me in a flash, his head buried between my legs. His mouth closed over my sex, causing me to gasp like I was being born again.

“Connor!” was all I could say while he once again ruined me with his tongue. I panted, moaned, and screamed as he pulled an orgasm out of me before I could catch my breath.

Stars danced once again, and when I opened my eyes, he was again above me, hovering, beaming, more hungry than before.

“I’ll go slow,” he said, and rubbed his penis against my entrance. “You tell me if you need me to stop.”

“I will,” I said, spreading my legs wider for him.

With his eyes glued to my face, he pressed himself inside me.

The stretch was intense, and it did hurt, but it was an odd kind of sting—sharp at first, then quickly melting into something warmer, deeper. He moved with care, and the discomfort gave way to a rising tide of sensation.

Pleasure bloomed where pain had been, until all that remained was the feeling of being utterly consumed.

“Oh, Connor,” I moaned when he was fully inside me.

He pulled himself out of me before pushing back in, faster this time. “That okay?” After I said it was, he did it again. And again.

The whole time, his eyes were locked onto mine. I couldn’t take the distance anymore. I pulled him to me, kissing him with the desperation I suddenly felt.

His body was hot and hard and beautiful. While he slid against me, bare skin on bare skin, I moaned, groaned, and melted into him.

Before long, we moved as a tide, pulling and crashing, urgent and smooth, trying to drown in each other.

“I love you,” he whispered against my collarbone as he drove into me, steady and deep.

“I love you too, Connor.”

He moved with purpose, rolling his hips into mine with a control that drove me wild. I met him stroke for stroke, sweat-slicked and shaking. Every thrust sent pleasure spiraling higher, building something unbearably beautiful in my chest.

We were tangled, feral, breaking apart and reforming in the same heartbeat. And when I was right on the edge of the precipice, trembling and gasping his name, he leaned down.

His mouth hovered at the crook of my neck, where my pulse thudded. “Can I mark you?” His words came out broken, his request ancient and animalistic.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Do it.”

His teeth sank in, and white heat exploded through me, a pleasure sharper than anything I’d ever known. It went beyond physical—to my soul. It shattered who I’d been and made me into someone new.

With his mark, my wolf was unleashed, and she surged to the surface.

The moment he lifted his face away from my skin, I buried my fangs into his neck. A sudden sense of calm and a peace I’d never thought possible crashed over me.

In the blink of an eye, nothing seemed to matter anymore. So long as I had Connor, I knew everything would be all right.

Something powerful shifted within both of us, that wild bond that had been stretching tighter finally snapping into place with a soundless roar.

All of these sensations brought me over my edge, and I screamed as my body convulsed around him. He’d pushed me into a climax so intense my very blood seemed to burn.

He followed quickly with a growl, his body jerking and arms wrapping around me as if he’d never let go again.

And I knew he wouldn’t.

We collapsed together, soaked and shaking, our bond glowing bright and molten between us.

I could feel him now, truly feel his presence in my marrow. His thoughts and emotions brushed mine like the softest whisper: love, admiration, family.

Home.

***

The next day, I took Clara to visit with the pups.

I sat near the forest, holding a boy in my lap like a fragile package. A girl, probably his age, leaned into my side. Both were deeply asleep in the way only children could be.

Opposite me, Clara resembled a human jungle gym, with three little ones draped over her as though she were their personal plaything. She twirled a girl’s chocolate-brown hair, lost in thought. It seemed the sensation soothed something broken inside her.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

Her eyes met mine, and she smiled softly. “Of course.”

“When did you find out you were a clone?”

“One day, a guard took me past the nursery. I heard them, saw them. I was in awe. I didn’t know children existed.” Her fingers stilled in the girl’s hair. “Then, a woman screamed at the guard to ‘keep the damn clone away.’ That’s when I began asking questions.”

Unsure what to say next, I simply nodded. I actually had thousands of questions I wanted to ask, but most of them could be answered by reading the BioBridge files, which I’d started doing already.

I’d learned they’d wiped the clones’ memories somehow, so asking her questions she couldn’t answer would likely do more harm than help. There was one thing I could ask that she’d remember, though, so I did.

“Connor said he met you in Seattle. He said you thanked him.” After she confirmed this, I continued, “Why?”

“It was my job to place the clones in packs. When he recognized me, I assumed his pack already had theirs. I didn’t know it was you.” She tilted her head and gave me a real smile. “When I found out what we were, I became obsessed with finding you.”

“Really? Why?”

She shrugged. “I figured whoever they’d used to make us must’ve suffered. I wanted to help you, set you free. That’s why I was at BioBridge, actually. I was trying to find you and the kids.” She smiled again. “And I did.”

Affection blossomed in my chest. “Thanks for helping me back there.”

“My pleasure.” She fell silent for a beat, staring at me. “I’m glad you escaped,” she finally said.

Her words, for whatever reason, hit hard. “Me too,” was all I could reply.

We sat in a comfortable silence that made me realize I felt just as protective of Clara and the other clones as I did of these kids.

Before I could ask her what she wanted to do with her freedom, my first-ever mind-link opened in my head, as naturally as taking a breath.

“~Willow~,” Connor said, “~you’d better come back. The trial’s about to begin~.”