CHAPTER 2: CLAIMING HIS MATE

ISLA’S POV

His lips mold over mine, creating such a delicious friction as he drags and pulls. I sway on my feet, but he holds me upright with a fist in my hair.

I should stop this, I know I should. But I can’t for the life of me bring myself to pull away. It feels too good, too right.

I moan into his mouth. It’s such a needy, foreign sound that seems to ground me, and pull me into the reality of the situation. I push at his chest, but he either doesn’t notice, or chooses to ignore.

I break away, tossing my head to the side and inhaling a much-needed breath.

Unfazed, he buries his face in my neck, sniffing me. His nose traces around the juncture of my throat, making my eyelids flutter shut.

His hands trace down my body, moving over my waist as he pulls me closer into him. The heat radiating from him sears through my clothes.

I feel so breathless and wanton, but I know this isn’t right.

“Stop,” I breathe. “Wait.”

Abruptly, he halts his movements, but he doesn’t take his hands off my body. From his hunched position, he stares at me from under his lashes.

“We shouldn’t,” I say, pushing against his chest. He blinks up at me, rising to his full height.

“What’s your name?” His deep baritone washes over me. I stare at him, taking in his swollen lips from our kiss.

It’s such an erotic sight, it makes me hot all over again.

I mutter a quiet, “Isla.”

“Isla,” he says it slowly, like he’s testing the way it sounds off his lips. I attempt to put some space between us, but he grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Don’t leave.” he says, “Are you scared?”

“I-” I’m at a loss for words.

I don’t know how to react to all this. He’s my mate? There’s no denying it though, my wolf yips her joy, basking in his presence.

“I’m not scared. I’m just... confused.” I say eventually.

“About what?”

I watch as he holds my palm, absently tracing the lines with his thumb. “I didn’t think I’d find my mate here.”

His eyes meet mine, searching, for what I’m not sure. I flush under his scrutiny, dropping my eyes to the floor.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, cupping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my head gently to meet his eyes once again.

His handsomeness is uncanny. It’s difficult to place why I find him so attractive, maybe it’s the mate bond. But even without that, his features are utterly exquisite.

His silky black hair pulled back in a low bun gives him such a regal air. He wears a fitted black suited, tailored perfectly to his strong frame.

“Did you not want a mate?” he asks, interrupting my train of thought.

“No,” I shake my head, “I just…” I let the words trail off.

The last thing I need is his pity. He may be interested now, but what happens when he finds out where I come from? To what family I belong? No one wants to be associated with the weak, our tarnished reputation would only bring you down with us.

“Just what?” he asks, looking at me softly, like he’s desperate to hear my answer.

“Nothing,” I say, pulling away, “I should go.”

“No.” All softness is drained from his expression, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. “You’re not leaving.”

I stare at him, my eyes wide. My obvious shock at the shift in his demeanor written all over my face.

He cups my cheek, softening all over again, “I found you. Now, I won’t let you go.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Behind his sincere expression lies a hard determination, like he means every word he says.

“I want to claim you.” he states.

My heart hammers against my rib cage at his words, he ignores my reaction, staring at my neck, where his mark would go.

“Let me,” he whispers.

My mind runs a mile per minute. He sounds so sincere, like there’s nothing else that matters at the moment, and every inch of me is urging me to believe him. To trust him.

He pulls on my hand that’s still in his, stroking his thumb over my cheek with the other.

 “Let me.” This time, it’s not a request.

He pulls on my hand, walking us back toward the balcony doors. Once we step into the ball room, the lights blind me and I look down at the ground with him guiding me.

“Oh my God, he’s here.”

“Who is that with him?”

“Is that Prince Axel’s mate?”

“No way!”

I look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Alpha Prince. But my steps falter immediately, the second I register the numerous pairs of eyes focused in my direction.

“Isla’s his mate?” Someone whispers within the throng of people.

My brain goes on overdrive, as I turn to stare at the back of my mates head. Just now fully registering the long hair pulled in a maintained low ponytail.

“Axel?” I whisper.

He squeezes my hand, confirming my thoughts.

Prince Axel, the Alpha Heir, is my mate?

He walks through the group of wolves scattered on each side, his steps confident and unhurried. Completely unfazed by the mass of attention focused solely on him.

Or, us.

He leads us towards a staircase at the end of the room, pulling me along with him toward the second floor. I risk a glance behind me, taking in the slack-jawed expressions on some of the guests. I feel my cheeks heat.

Attention I was used to, the bad kind.

But this? The awed stares? The envy?

I never thought would be cast my way.

Once we’re out of sight, Axel lets go of my hand, pulling out a key card from his dress pants. He opens the large door in front of us, urging me to go in first. 

It’s a bedroom.

A lavish bedroom with a king-sized mattress in the middle, furnished with luxurious finishing. The door softly clicks shut behind me, and I turn to face him.

He loosens his tie, sliding one hand into the pocket of his slacks. I clasp my hands in front of me, unsure of what to do.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I tell him, “I’m just nervous.”

He nods once. Taking the short steps to stand in front of me. He cups my cheek, “Have you done this before?”

My eyes widen. I wouldn’t have been able to control my reaction even if I wanted to. Is he asking about sex?

He searches my face, I must be written like an open book because he simply says, “I thought as much.”

“I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” he says, “I want to make this as enjoyable for you as possible, if you’ll let me.”

I purse my lips together, trying to think of a response. Yes, I’ve never been intimate with a man. But I wasn’t naive, I knew a lot about sex.

And even more about what it was like with your fated mate. I want to give in, I want to let go and enjoy this, enjoy him.

“I can make you feel good.” he says, voice low, “I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

It’s a loaded question, but for some reason, the, “Yes,” slips from my lips without hesitation.

He nods, holding my gaze for a moment before moving to stand behind me. His hands trace the material of my dress, following the natural shape of my curves.

I’m much shorter than him. The top of my head barely grazing his chest.

He grips the zip on my back, pulling it down. The sound echoes through the otherwise quiet room, and I fight a shiver as his knuckles graze the exposed flesh along my spine.

His palms cover the backs of my hands, gliding slowly up towards my shoulders. Pulling the straps downwards, the material falls down my body, pooling at my feet.

The air kisses my bare breasts, hardening my nipples into rosy peaks. He moves his palm over my waist, sliding it along my bare stomach.

Moving towards my abdomen, his callouses brush over the soft skin above my panties, his fingers tracing the lace of my underwear.

I suck in a sharp breath. He’s barely doing anything to me, but I’m mindless with desire, itching for him to go lower. He pulls away from me then, the heat of his presence leaving my back.

Confused, I peek over shoulder, half turning to face him, covering my naked breasts with my hands. What I see next halts the question on the tip of my tongue.