My Lycan Mate of Suicide Forest

August's eyes slid back up to find his with the blush flaming red on her cheeks now, but she was slowly lowering herself over him. So slowly. His mouth opened, mimicking hers as she approached his cock and hesitated—then approached it again before hesitating again. It took everything he had not to bite his fist in anticipation before she finally got up the courage to put her mouth on it, and then he was clutching the sheets when that silky warmth of her slowly, shyly surrounded him.

"August, please—you don't need to," he groaned, but she felt so good. Too good. Goddess, he didn't deserve this. He heard himself whimper, much to his dismay, but it seemed to spur her on, because she took him deeper, and her bottom arched up behind her as she bent over him, slowly bobbing her head up and down. He groaned and dropped his own head back against the bed. He wanted so desperately to take her every way—to finally reach inside of her to her deepest part and make her cry out his name. He was imagining just that when her teeth grazed him, and he hissed.

"Are you okay?" she popped up with her eyebrows arched in concern.

He chuckled and sat up to meet her, pulling her toward him.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry… It's just—it's so big," she muttered apologetically, reluctantly letting it go and trailing her hand back up his abs when he chuckled again at her innocence before reuniting his lips with hers. He punished her with the kiss, squinting against the onslaught of his desire that pushed him to devour every last delicious morsel of her at once.

August wrapped herself around him eagerly, tangling her arms and her hands behind his neck and in his hair as he pulled her into his lap. He lifted her easily and flipped her over onto her back in one swift motion, causing her to let out a surprised gasp before laughing softly under him.

With a smile back on her face at last, that growl of his rumbled through them both again as he moved down to kiss her neck, pulling her tender skin into his mouth before moving further down, his hands urging her up to meet him, and she obeyed—arching into him willingly. And then he was there—positioned between her legs again with the fire of possession in his eyes, and she didn't even hesitate this time. She had already given herself over to it—this perfect madness between them that sought to be made whole. But he paused again, awaiting her answer to his silent question.

'Yes,' she said in her mind, and he heard her. 'Yes,' she tugged him gently to continue. And then at last, that part of him so perfectly designed for her aligned at her entrance, and he gently nudged himself forward. She gasped and her eyes flew wide, but Graeme quickly lowered himself over her, making sure he didn't push further in.

She focused on his eyes that were searching hers. "Breathe, my love," he whispered against her and kissed her cheeks. Her lips had parted, and she was scanning his face, seeing his beautiful, tender expression while simultaneously feeling his desire pulse patiently inside of her. "You're so beautiful," he whispered again as he caressed the hair splayed out around her and tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth.

August grabbed onto his arms to steady herself when he started to move again. He was slow and careful, easing into her gently until her breathing started to even out and deepen and then she was arching up to meet him with every motion of his own—until it felt like they were two mirroring waves seeking each other out for that perfect crest.

"Graeme," she called, searching for him when his face angled away, but he came back to her, resting his forehead against hers where she could feel each comforting huff of his breath against her face.

'Home. He's home.' For some reason those thoughts exploded into her mind, and there was nothing like it—feeling him coming home to her. It was full and overwhelming, and then it was just him—his tenderness and strength lighting her up everywhere. Her whole being expanded to welcome him in, and he fit perfectly, sliding and filling, hitting the core of her being and taking her breath—and giving her his in exchange.

"Mine," he rumbled deliciously in her ear. "Goddess, you're all mine. Finally."

She opened her eyes and watched him—the tender intensity in his eyes as he held her—seeking her and finding her over and over again—the way all of his muscles tensed and aligned in the perfect roll that met with her. He was hers. She was the only one who got this part of him, and it was breathtaking. Seeing him—seeing all of him—and feeling him come home to her in a way no one else could. He was giving her that—he was giving her himself, fully. Every part.

"Graeme," she breathed it like a prayer. The sound of his name lit a cascade of delicious sensations under her skin, running the length of her—all the way to her toes, and she wrapped her legs around him that were humming with his name to lock him in, to urge him closer, to bring him home harder. His kiss was deep and demanding as his hips dipped and rolled, swirling and finding her again. "You feel so good," she whimpered and gave herself over to it, letting her head fall back against the bed in total surrender to every sensation that was building between them.

Goddess, she was surrounding him—his mate, August—her name consumed him like her warmth, her light. She was home, and he had found her. Her tenderness and warmth clenched him, pulling him in, and he obliged—worshiping every inch of her with the tantalizing slide that united them. He braced himself on his arms as he lowered himself closer to her, protecting her, his home, his mate—his everything—from everything else outside of them. No one would ever harm her again. Not her. She was his. She would always be his, and he would give his life to protect her.

He found her mouth and growled into her, tilting her more perfectly to take him deeper, and she whimpered, clenching and clawing at him to come home again and again. And then she was gasping and tightening under him, holding her breath and her position as he dipped and rolled and increased the rhythm of that perfect wave that hit all the endings and beginnings where they aligned—somehow finding this infinite purpose that was bright and blinding, and he shattered it.

August fell apart in his arms, losing herself to the explosion of light that crashed between them, and he followed her into it—groaning her name that was a prayer to the universe. To existence. It was so bright and complete that he found himself suddenly poised and trembling over her, shaking with silent tears. The tears released themselves from him without permission—tears that were full of gratitude and awe, and he felt her wrap her arms around him, kissing them away and whispering sweet words against him.

"Oh, my love," she whispered with tears in her eyes that matched his—full of gratitude. Gratitude for this coming together that was everything—the purpose of existence. It had to be. She felt like whatever protective shell had encapsulated her all of this time had broken open to let him in, and now she was warm and safe and complete.

"You're mine. You're perfect and beautiful and mine, and that was… That was everything," she said softly, tucking him into herself where he nuzzled against her neck like a child. For once, she was holding him, and she smiled with how natural it felt—allowing him to be vulnerable in her arms.

One of his arms and legs were flung over her, and he drew her body closer to him where he could bury himself further into that perfect curve of her neck. He nibbled the soft skin there and felt another after tremor shake her, and he chuckled. "I love you August Moon," he spoke against her.

"I love you too, mate," she replied, smiling as she did.

The two of them stayed like that—wrapped together, whole and entangled—for a period that seemed beyond time. They huffed gently against each other, relishing in the new air that they now shared. It seemed different. Clearer.

Eventually, once their bodies slowly came back to themselves and the infinite retreated back into a time that could be counted, August found herself smiling at the ceiling as she played with Graeme's hair and let him intertwine their fingers with her other hand. She imagined staying happily like that forever—just the two of them in his treehouse in the middle of the woods.

***

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