Bond Of Beasts Desires Novels & Stories

Bond. I turned to him, voice barely steady. “Is that what you want? To… claim me? Just to silence them?” His eyes burned gold again, but this time it wasn’t anger. It was hunger. His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing my lower lip. “No,” he murmured, so close I could taste his breath. “I want to claim you because every part of me already does.” The bond flared white-hot, and for one dangerous heartbeat, I wanted nothing more than to let him.

"And I'm yours. That's what the mate bond MEANS. You don't get to offer yourself to anyone else. You don't get to even PRETEND you would." Through the bond, I feel her emotions shifting—fear, defiance, and underneath, arousal. She's not afraid of me, not really. She's excited. My beast notices and purrs with dark satisfaction. "I wasn't actually going to..." she starts. "I know." I'm right in front of her now. "I felt it through the bond, felt your desperation, felt that you weren't really attracted to him. But that doesn't change what you tried. Doesn't change that you were willing to use your body to escape me."

"But now I need you to show me. Need you to prove that I'm the only one who gets to see you like this. The only one who gets to touch you, to claim you." My beast rises at her words, at the possession in her voice. Through our bond, desire spirals between us, building with each heartbeat. Power builds between us as I move closer, drawn by more than just the mate bond. This is everything - need and trust and absolute certainty in what we are to each other. "Always," I breathe against her skin. "Only you. Forever."

The breeze teased her hair, lifting strands and wrapping them around her throat like ethereal fingers, a mocking imitation of my own possessive urges. She was still, devastating in her quiet strength. Mine. The word echoed in my skull, primal and undeniable. The bond hit me like a drug—deep, primal, no longer just pain or panic but pure, aching need that roared through my blood, drowning every rational thought, every fear, every wall I’d painstakingly built. The beast inside didn’t give a fuck about strategy or weakness or the risks of letting her in. It saw its mate, alone and vulnerable, and demanded I claim her.

“I… I want it. I want… to bond fully with you.” A grin curved his lips, sharp and dangerous. “Good. Because this… this is more than sex. This is claiming. You mark me, I mark you. Every bite, every scratch, every kiss… it makes the bond stronger. Do you understand?” “Yes,” I whispered, heart hammering, body alive. “I… I understand.” He pressed closer, hands roaming possessively over my curves. Every touch made my breath catch. My wolf coiled tighter, surging with anticipation, desire, and instinct. He was mine. And I was his.

Yet here he was, teeth still aching with the imprint of her. His human teeth had no business marking her. His human mouth had no right claiming what only the Beast should touch—yet he’d done it anyway. A transgression that felt more intimate than ritual, more binding than blood-oaths. The Beast claimed by law of the Pact. This—this was claimed by choice, by impulse, by something dangerously close to desire. His grip tightened around her waist before he realised he was doing it. His fingers splayed, as if testing the reality of her, needing to feel the solid weight of flesh and bone to assure himself she hadn’t been some illusion conjured by his own starvation for novelty.

The fresh mint pheromones mix perfectly with the cedar and tobacco already lingering in the room, and the combination creates a deep biological harmony. "I want you to bite me now, Dean," Beau whispers back to me, and he tilts his chin up to expose his neck. "I want to share my thoughts with you, and I want the pack bond to be whole before the sun comes up." The raw honesty in his voice pleases me, and I nod my head to show my full approval of his brave request. I look across the massive bed at Rhett, and the Northside Boss understands exactly what I need to happen next.

“I don’t know why. But I’ve served long enough to know that when Gorvane looks at someone the way he looks at you, it means one of two things: destruction, or something worse.” Kaerith’s fingers curled against the fabric of the dress. Her nails scraped the smooth silk. “I don’t want anything from him.” Madame Marita gave a dry smile. “That’s not the point.” She picked a stray curl from Kaerith’s shoulder. “The Beast doesn’t have affection. Not for his court. Not for his mate, Vythea. Not for his whores. And not for you. He takes what he wants, and when he’s done, there’s nothing left of who you were.”

If she'd managed to hold my gaze for anything longer than two seconds during breakfast, she would have seen just how close my beast was to unleashing and clawing her skin until she bled and her scent filled the atmosphere. “I haven't been really good to her.” “But your beast needs to be sated. I don't approve of you being fixated on one woman and punishing your lycan for it. There are other women—” I shook my head, “That's where you're getting it wrong, Heira. It's my beast that wants her.” Hungry for her even. That had her perking up with interest, “Your beast? It likes her?” “Not like. My beast doesn't like anyone.” I repeated the same thing I'd told Valios. “It just wants her.”

The dream allowed more than the hall had. I put my muzzle to the place under his jaw. He went still. A sound rolled out of him that would have been my name if beasts used names. I wanted to lean my whole weight into his side and stay until the two years he had promised me were a joke. Slow burn in a dream is worse than stone basins. There is no court to blame for stopping. We did not take more. The beasts knew the difference between bonding and feeding. They pressed, circled, breathed. Somewhere in the bed our human fingers had found each other across the cold space. I knew that without seeing it.