My Mate.

{Isla’s POV}

The word had barely registered in my mind before the stranger’s eyes went black.

A low growl rolled through his chest, and the arm around my waist tightened until there was no space between us.

“Please tell me you felt that,” he said, his breath coming heavy against my skin.

I should have moved. Vanessa would have been looking for me, and the man I had been sent to deceive, Axel Blackwood, could still be waiting for me beneath that tree. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. My eyes locked on his.

His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Tell me to release you.”

His strong grip loosened, giving me a clear path to escape him, and the distance alone made my chest protest. So, my hands went to his chest and curled into his shirt. His palm slid behind my neck, and he lowered his mouth slowly enough, giving me more than one chance to stop him. His lips brushed against mine, warm and firm, then he pulled back the smallest distance, as though he was reminding me what I was getting myself into.

I answered by rising my toes. And whatever restraint he had left broke completely. His mouth came back harder, and my back met the garden wall behind me. He slid his hand to the back of my head before it hit the wall, while he used the other to pull my hip against his body.

I became aware of how close he was when the low growl in his chest vibrated through me. His fingers dug into my waist, not to hold me still, but to pull me closer.

 The careful control in his hands, tongue, and shoulder melted away, and when his breath hitched against my lips, I felt my resistance melting away like sugar in the pouring rain.

“Wait,” I breathed when he moved his mouth beneath my ear.

He stopped instantly, lifting his head just enough to look at me, his grip around my waist loosening. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I said.

“The mask stays?”

“Yes.” I nodded.

A narrow door stood behind the climbing roses. He opened it, and it led to a private room washed in moonlight; he stepped inside, holding my hand, pulling me through it.

The door had barely shut before his hands found my waist again, his mouth found mine like he’d been starved of it in the ten seconds it took to get there. The wet stain of my gown clung to my every curve; his fingers traced the fabric at my hip before sliding down to the fastening at my back.

He was slow, torturously slow. Each passing second made my body ache for his, and at every pause his eyes found mine, waiting for my denial that never came.

The moment my gown loosened, he wasn’t slow anymore; his hands were everywhere: on my waist, my ribs, the curve of my breast, like he was trying to memorize every part of me before he claimed me.

I stood there in nothing but the silver mask, my skin still from the pool of earlier, my nipples tightening hard in the cool air. His gaze was on me, and the sound he made was pure animal.

“Fuck.” He breathed.

He carried me and gently placed me on the table; the warmth in his mouth burned a path down my throat, my collarbone, lower.

He closed his mouth around one nipple and sucked hard, his tongue flickering wet until I cried out, my fingers tangled around his hair. He switched to the other, grazing it with his teeth, and the mixture of pleasure and sweet pain shot straight to my clit, which was throbbing now, aching for him.

He must have noticed because his hands slid between my thighs. He groaned when he found how wet I was. He didn’t tease; he didn’t need to. He pushed two fingers inside me, deep and sudden, and I gasped, my hips bucking, and my head all the way back.

“You’re dripping for me,” he growled against my breast, his thumb finding my clit and circling it with perfect cruelty, hitting the spot that made my vision blur. I was panting, my eyes were rolled back, and my nails were scraping against the table.

He pulled me closer, and his mouth was back on mine, swallowing every moan.

After he pulled away, I whimpered at the loss.

His hands shoved my thighs apart, and then his mouth was on me, hot and filthy, his tongue overlaying my arousal before closing around my clit and sucking hard. He then pushed two fingers back inside me, fucking me with them while his mouth remained on my clit, I came with a scream that he drank down.

He rose slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze fixed on my face covered with a silver mask, but my eyes went down to his eight rock-hard abs covered in scars, then they slowly went down to his cock; hard, thick, straining toward me like it had a mind of its own. Whoever this man was, he looked like he came straight out of a dream.

He lifted me with ease, my legs wrapping around his waist, my back met the wall, and I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance, pressing into my slick heat; he paused.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“Yes,” I nodded. “Please, fuck me. Now.”

He drove into me in one brutal thrust.

I cried out, my head falling back as he filled me, owning me. He didn’t wait for me to adjust. He pulled back and slammed in again, harder this time, setting a pace that was pure savage and perfect. Each thrust grinding against my sensitive clit.

The wetness of our bodies filled the room. My mask was still fixed in place. And at this moment, I had completely forgotten about the party, Vanessa, and Axel Blackwood.

My moans broke free with every deep, pushing stroke.

“Look at me,” he snarled. And I obeyed immediately. I forced my eyes open. His were black, wild, and fixed on my mask.

“You’re mine,” he growled, and the words should have terrified me, but instead, made me feel safe.

He shifted his angle and hit a place that made white burst behind my eyes. I came again, harder this time. My body shaking around his cock, and he groaned long and low against my throat, his hips stuttering, his release filled me.

We stayed there like that, breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside me, the room smelling of sex and the sweet fragrance of roses outside.

His face dropped into the curve of my neck. Then gently, his teeth grazed my skin.

My wolf surged towards it.

“If I mark you, neither of us can pretend that this meant nothing.” He said.

I should have told him my name and who I truly was.

Instead, I turned my head and offered him my throat. “Do it.”

His teeth closed over my neck, and pain flashed through me before the warmth flooded in, and the unfinished bond opened. My wolf urged me to mark him back, to finish what he had started.

But his mouth tightened around me, his mouth settling on the mark he intended to keep forever.

He kissed my cheeks. Then whispered something that made my whole world shatter. My sister’s name. “Oh, Cassandra.”