Page 98 of Pretty Little Assassin

“You can risk whatever you want to risk when your stitches are healed,” I tell him.

His black, bottomless eyes gleam. “Keep that knife strapped on,” he says. “I like it.” His hand dances up my thigh to circle close to Mercy. “We’ll keep my stitches safe. But if you want me to not move my hands, you’ll have to make me. I’ll be careful, but I need to touch you, мой суженый.”

His large hands guide me on top of him. My eyes flutter closed as he gently explores me, then open as I feel his fingers pressing into my hips. He is going to leave marks.

He is forcing himself not to move.

“You’re lucky I’m athletic,” I say. “Or we’d have to wait until you’re healed.”

“Not luck,” he grits out, “that my scent mate is both too impatient to wait and strong enough to take what she wants.” I feel him throbbing, and I grind against him without putting pressure on his wound. I relish the hitch in his breathing, which is all he allows himself to express.

I am going to make the Wraith lose his mind and his vaunted self control.

I tease and tease. My slick drenches us. I may lose my mind before he does. I will not.

I finally position myself, still holding most of my body weight above him. I press down as Viktor drives into me in one hard thrust. The force of it pushes a cry from my throat.

Then my teeth clamp down over his scent gland.

Mine.

Viktor's eyes widen with pain and pleasure. His scent floods my senses—leather and black pepper and cold Siberian pine, stronger than I have ever had it. And under it, faint and new: copper. Vanilla. Jasmine.

Me.

In an instant, I can feel him more deeply than I ever have before. Not only his cock inside my body, but pieces of his pleasure. His hunger. His need for me.

It drives me wild.

“You bit me,” he says, his smile widening. “You bit me first.”

“I know what I did,” I gasp as his cock swells inside me.

The knot at the base expands, locking us together the way our bodies were designed to. He’s already close. I can feel his control breaking.

“Come for me, little assassin. Let me hear you scream with pleasure now that your body belongs to me.”

His teeth clamp down around my scent gland, and the pain mixes with the pulse of his orgasm inside me. I unravel instantly. My body opens; the slick comes, the climax ripples over me in violent waves.

And then it opens the other way.

He can feel me. I feel him feel me—my own pleasure coming back through him, doubled and strange, until I can't tell which of us is which.

We are bonded.

From now on we'll both find it physically painful to be separated for any length of time. We'll both feel each other's emotions, to varying degrees. We belong to each other now.

His hand tightens around my hip. “And now you’re mine as surely as I’m yours, Valentina.”

Viktor’s scent isn’t just inside my nostrils; it’s inside my entire body. We’re locked. Knotted. Bound. Mated.

By the time his knot recedes enough for me to move, the intensity has barely begun to settle.

Once is not enough.

I throw my weight against him, wrapping my legs tighter around his hips. Trying to flip a man his size is no small feat, especially when he is still buried inside me.

He goes over more easily than he should. That isn’t generosity. His left side is still healing.