Merrily Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters 3)
his hand slid from her head, down her spine, coming to rest on the small dip of her waist just above her ass. He spread his fingers wide, spanning the area as if to touch as much as possible at once. The spot was tender but his touch soothed it.
    “Does it hurt?” he husked.
    “A little. But it’s better when you touch it.”
    There was no open wound since her tail didn’t exist in this form. There was only the internal damage that would be harder to heal because she’d shifted.
    Ryan gently rubbed the area and she could feel the soft working of their bond. It was weak but growing, and it was enough to take the immediate pain away, drawing a moan from her.
    “Better?” he whispered.
    “Yes. Thank you.” Her voice trembled and she wasn’t sure if it was an effect of the drugs or of him.
    He continued gently massaging her lower back, moving toward her hip with his strong hands. Every sure touch relaxed her more, taking the pain and stiffness away little by little.
    She became aware of just how tightly she was pressed to his body when a hard bulge formed between them near her waist.
    Layna swallowed, breathing shallow to avoid the change in his scent. If she was to smell his arousal, her cat would go crazy for it, and she wasn’t sure they were ready for that yet. Not with so much still unsettled between them.
    Ryan’s hand moved lower, his middle finger teasing at the crack of her bare ass. Layna held very still, afraid to break this exploratory connection whatever it was. The rise and fall of his chest became quicker against her forehead, and her fingers gripped his shirt even tighter, her claws peeking out to find a bit of skin beneath the fabric.
    He gasped, moving down to cup her ass cheek, softly caressing the skin first before squeezing in a punishing grip. His calloused fingers were a stark contrast to her smooth backside and his delicious roughness made her squirm in delight.
    “Yesss.” The word escaped her on a long hiss.
    His fingers slid around her curves, playing where the two cheeks met, going lower and lower until he found the opening of her pussy. There he paused, almost seeming surprised at the abundant wetness.
    Layna, writhed against the bulge protruding from his jean clad hips, and it grew impossibly harder. Breathing only through her mouth, she pressed her lips to the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the hard ridge of muscle beneath. She wanted to bite it. Nibble her way up his chest to his neck, nip along his jaw, and finally that pouty bottom lip she’d had fantasies about.
    Tentatively he slipped his finger up and down along her folds, learning the part of her she’d kept to herself for so long. His touch was soft at first, growing more insistent with every pass until he slowly pushed inside.
    Layna gasped, and with the intake of air came her mate’s aroused scent. It flooded her brain, a smell she’d forever be chasing, striving to recreate, to satisfy. Her cougar growled in appreciation. He was delicious like this, dark and sultry and so masculine she wanted to rub herself all over him. Mark him up with her own scent.
    “Fuck,” he uttered, trembling and breathless. He was shaken by this. Affected. Maybe even as much as she was.
    Achingly slow, he withdrew his finger and plunged back in, making her whimper at the sweet sensation. With his other hand, he pressed her head closer to his chest as if wanting her to hold still, but it was impossible. To finally be sharing an intimate moment with him was just too much. She wanted to make it last forever, wanted to go further.
    She could prove her love like this. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? She could make love to him, satisfy him so thoroughly he couldn’t doubt her no matter what sort of ugly denial she’d dealt him in the past.
    But before she could unclaw her fingers from his shirt, he increased his rhythm between her legs and added a second finger while a third danced along her clit.
    Layna’s mind reeled. Every push inside

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