Her Chosen Mate

Part 60

(POV - Marcus)

Marcus cursed at the distance stretching out between his own lands and Aria's, the wind whistling in his ears as he raced alongside Jaden and Mercucio.

He couldn't think straight, his wolf taking the driver's seat quite literally and steering his thoughts dangerously close to bloodlust.

He would kill Aiden.

He would kill Aiden and any of his wolves that stood in the way. Any wolf that stood between Marcus and Aria would drop before they even realized what was happening.

He should have put up more of a fight the night she demanded he let her go back. He should have begged her to stay, done whatever he could to make sure she hadn't left his side.

Because this was torture. With miles and miles separating his lands from hers, even his wolf couldn't cover the distance quick enough for his liking.

Paws thundering in the dirt, sending chucks of damp soil flying, he snarled in frustration.

He tried to ease his own thoughts, thinking of Aria and their moments together.

In particular, he recalled the last time they'd made love, curled tightly around one another beneath his soft sheets. It had been early in the morning, long before the sun peeked over the horizon, when the world outside his window was still asleep.

She'd turned in his arms, scooting back into his chest and sighing sleepily when his chest pressed to her back. He had gladly pulled her closer, tucking his face into the curve of the back of her neck and breathing her in. It was bliss, having her body fit his like that was what they'd both been designed for.

It had been so cosy, so deliriously comfortable, until Aria wiggled, pushing her ass into his crotch in a bid to get closer. His entire body froze, his wolf lifting an ear in interest.

Bartering with his own body to behave and not react to the way she timidly rocked back against him, he realized she'd been doing it on purpose.

"Little one," he ground out, his jaw locked in concentration. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

She'd hummed absently, the hum petering out into a soft sigh when his cock twitched against her ass.

"So are you," she accused. "And yet, here you are, hard against my thigh at 2 in the morning."

"Whose fault is that?" he growled into her ear. He let his hands slip from her waist, reaching up to cup her breasts beneath the huge T-shirt she wore.

"Can't be me," she murmured sleepily. "I've been asleep all this time like a good girl. You're the deviant with a hard on."

"Oh?" he teased, his lust rousing him from sleep. He flared his nostrils, easily finding the scent he was looking for.

"Says the wolf with slick sticking to her thighs."

She giggled shyly, arching her neck and pulling his face down to hers, slotting her lips over his in a lazy, sloppy kiss.

"You got me," she surrendered, although it hardly felt like Marcus had gotten the upper hand. She threaded her fingers through his where one of his hands squeezed her breast and led it downward. She parted her thighs and dipped his fingers into the warm slick that coated her skin, making him draw in his breath. "I couldn't help myself. I had a really good dream."

"A dream?" he grunted, pressing the pads of his fingertips into the wetness on her thighs. She hooked one of her legs over his hip, allowing him better access. He could already feel the sweat gathering on her spine: it slowly dampened his chest where she arched into him. "Do tell."