3. Marked

Aminda's PoV

I could feel the weight of his gaze traveling over every inch of my skin, pausing at every soft curve. My dress slipped from my shoulders and pooled around my ankles. I stood in nothing but a tiny thong. His eyes flashed, hunger darkening their brilliant blue as he circled me like a predator.

He stopped behind me, fisting my hair, dragging in my scent with a shudder.

“The scenery is perfect, temptress,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “But the view…” His hands cupped my breasts, teasing my nipples until a moan slipped past my lips. “…the view is exquisite.”

I leaned back against his chest, my eyes fluttering shut. His hard length pressed against me, and my body answered instantly. His claws shredded the flimsy thong, and his fingers slid through my wetness.

“You’re so wet for me.”

He spun me around, pinching my chin so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me, why were those men chasing us?”

Possessiveness laced his tone. He wanted reassurance that I was his, and only his.

“That was my stepfather,” I whispered. “I escaped in the middle of my birthday celebration.”

His chuckle rumbled through me before his lips crushed mine. Our tongues tangled, and I clung to his leather jacket, dizzy with need.

“You…” I tried to speak, but he swallowed the word with another kiss.

“…have…” Another kiss. His teeth grazed my bottom lip. “…too many clothes on.”

He stripped, tossing his jacket onto the grass and spreading it like a bed for us. His shirt followed, and I trailed my fingers down his sculpted chest, every ridge and hollow perfect. Kneeling, I unbuckled his jeans, freeing him. My mouth watered. He was impossibly thick, his cock hot and heavy in my hand, precum glistening at the tip.

“Open your pretty mouth, temptress. I want to feel it around me.”

“I’ve… never done this before,” I admitted, breathless. His eyes darkened, but instead of pressure, his touch gentled.

“Then we’ll leave it for next time,” he murmured, caressing my cheek.

But I couldn’t. I wanted to taste him—needed to—because I didn’t know if I’d see him again. I parted my lips, taking him in the way I had only ever practiced secretly with Bessa and Deandra using cucumbers and carrots. His grip tightened in my hair, his head falling back as I worked him slowly, finding my rhythm.

Just as I grew confident, he yanked me up, his cock leaving my mouth with a wet pop. His kiss bruised my lips, stealing my breath.

“As much as I enjoy your mouth, beautiful, the first time I come with you will be inside you. I need a taste of your honey first.”

He lowered me onto his jacket, parting my thighs. His hungry gaze made my skin burn. Then his mouth claimed me, tongue lapping my slick folds, sucking my clit until I shattered in my very first orgasm. My cries echoed in the dark night as his tongue coaxed every drop of release from me.

“Shhh, princess,” he soothed when I whimpered, oversensitized. “There’s more where that came from.”

His cock pressed against my entrance, and I stilled.

“It’s better if you relax, Aminda,” he whispered, my name rolling off his tongue like a vow.

He pushed deep, stretching me painfully, and a cry tore from me. His kiss silenced it, soft where his body was unyielding.

“What’s your name?” I gasped.

“Kian... my beautiful temptress —” His words dissolved into a groan as he began to move.

I opened wider, letting him fill me, each thrust stealing my breath. He hooked my leg over his arm, driving deeper, and I could only chant his name, lost in him. “Kian… Kian…”

When his mouth closed over my nipple, the combination of pleasure sent me over the edge again, whimpering his name as he bit my neck hard. His release spilled inside me, hot and endless.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he growled, already hard again. “Once isn’t enough. I want you again.”

He flipped me on top of him, guiding me down his shaft. His hands gripped my hips as he filled me once more, eyes gone dark with lust.

“I want you all night, princess. Say yes.” His thumb teased my clit mercilessly.

“Yes,” I moaned, surrendering.

We climaxed together after a while, and I collapsed against his chest, trembling. But even then, his hunger didn’t abate. He rolled me beneath him again, kissing and worshipping me until I was wet enough to take him a third time. He entered me again. His thrusts grew wilder, my moans tangled with his growls, until pleasure consumed me so completely I blacked out.

---

When I woke, dawn stained the sky. I was sprawled across him, sore and spent. He tensed suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, hurriedly dressing.

“My people mindlinked me. The Supreme Witch heiress is missing. The news says a werewolf is the prime suspect.”

I gasped. “I have to go back. I’ll find you again.”

“Aminda, wait—”

But I teleported before he could stop me.

---

I reappeared fully dressed in the grand salon, where Aunt Marilla and Alister entertained their pompous guests. Mother rushed to me, clutching me with relief.

“Oh, dear, you’re alright!”

Marilla’s sharp eyes gleamed. “So? Did you do it?”

Heat crawled up my neck. She didn’t care about me—only about unlocking the dark magic she believed my virginity had barred.

Alister’s eyes were black pits of fury, shadows writhing around him. He shoved Mother aside.

“Who was it? That filthy werewolf? Did you give yourself to an abomination?”

Marilla clapped gleefully. “So it is done!”

I shoved Alister into the wall with a glare, power coursing through me. “Do not lay a finger on my mother again.”

He snarled, but Marilla was nearly vibrating with excitement. Something about this wasn’t right.

I started toward my room, but her shriek froze me.

“What is that on your neck, Aminda Loretta Bettencourt?”

I rolled my eyes, assuming she meant hickeys, but Alister’s roar shook the walls.

“You let that mutt mark you?! You are a Queen, not some branded cow! Remove it at once!”

Confused, I touched the spot. Mother gasped, summoning a mirror with trembling hands.

A golden and crystal-blue crest glowed on my skin—wolf, star, and crown intertwined.

Marilla’s face blanched. Alister raged. Mother whispered, almost reverently—

“It’s the mark of someone mated to a royal wolf, Aminda.”