Page 43 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

His smile is soft and wicked at once.“I’m just getting started.”

My body clenches, and he feels the change in me.I know he does.His nostrils flare, eyes darkening, but he does not rush.His mouth lowers to my throat, kissing carefully, deliberately avoiding the place where a claiming mark would go.

My breath catches.“Daniel.”

“I know,” he murmurs against my skin.“No claiming.”

His lips trail lower, over my collarbone, across the upper swell of my breast.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers.“Telling me what you want.Letting yourself want it.Goddess, sweetheart, you have no idea how perfect you are.”

I tremble.The praise slips beneath my skin, warmer than the bond, deeper than lust.His hand moves slowly over my waist, my ribs, stopping just beneath my breast.He cups me gently, thumb brushing over my nipple, and pleasure sparks through me.A moan slips out before I can stop it.

Daniel’s eyes snap to mine.“There,” he says roughly.“That sound.I want to earn every single one of those.”

My back arches and his mouth closes over my breast, and for a few moments, the world goes soft and hot and impossible.His tongue moves over me, slow and devastating, while his hand keeps me anchored.I grip his shoulders, nails biting into skin, and he groans like the little sting of pain is a gift.

His thigh presses higher between mine.I move against him once, and pleasure shoots through me.So does panic.Not huge or overwhelming, just a flash.A shadow.A memory of too much too fast, of fate demanding, of a bond tearing instead of holding.

Daniel feels it immediately.He lifts his head, breathing hard.“We stop.”

I blink up at him, dazed.“I didn’t say stop.”

“I know.”His voice is rough, almost pained.“But your body did.”My throat closes.

He kisses my forehead and shifts his weight off me, settling beside me in the grass instead of above me.The sudden loss of his heat makes me ache, but his arm stays around my waist, loose enough that I can leave.

For a minute, I can’t speak.

Daniel stares up at the moon, jaw tight, body painfully hard beside mine.His restraint is not effortless.I see that now.It costs him.It shakes through him.It leaves his hands curled in the grass and his breath unsteady.

But he still stopped.Not because he did not want me.Because I mattered more than what he wanted.

Something inside me cracks.Not breaks but opens.

I turn onto my side to face him.“You’re very annoying.”

His laugh is strained.“So I’ve heard.”

“I wanted more.”

“I know.”

“I got scared.”

“I know that too.”

“I hate that you know everything.”

“I don’t know everything.”His gaze shifts to mine.“But I’m learning you.”

My chest aches.The moonlight paints him silver and gold, and I realize, with a terrifying little jolt, that I want to learn him too.Not because fate says so.

Because he’s Daniel.Because he brings parts early and apologizes to ovens and lets my wolf win.Because he stops.

I brush a piece of grass from his chest, and his breath catches.The power in that tiny reaction warms me more than it should.

“I’m not ready for full sex,” I say, cheeks burning because apparently I’m twelve and the word sex is difficult now.