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possible. His thrusts tightened into sharp jerks.
     
    Chase barely remained on his feet. It was a miracle his
knees hadn’t buckled but he’d been too afraid of Jasmine getting hurt if they
crashed to the floor. She was his weakness in every sense, both physically and
emotionally, the way he felt with her in his arms.
    He’d known she was special the moment they’d met and those
indications had grown with every minute they’d spent together while searching
prospective properties. It had been tough walking away from her when their
business concluded but she’d been too sweet to horrify by introducing her into
his world.
    He’d chosen to let her go rather than damage her sweet
innocence about all things Others. It would have been impossible to hide his
true nature from her if they’d dated. He wouldn’t have been able to keep his
hands off her and she would have noticed when his eyes changed color and his
fangs grew during the heat of passion. Making her forget by controlling her
mind had been an option but long-term exposure to memory wipes could damage her
sanity.
    The rogue had changed all that. She could have died and
Chase wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Her job put her at risk of meeting
unpleasant strangers and giving them opportunity to harm her when they were
alone. He should have seen it coming but had been too focused on protecting her
from the harsh reality that humans were lower on the food chain than they
assumed.
    Any residual doubts of her being his mate were gone. His
werewolf traits weren’t usually dominant but they had flared to life with a
vengeance. The animal inside him recognized her for who she was—his. His dick
was aching, swollen still—even after coming so hard—and wouldn’t be leaving
Jasmine’s snug pussy any time soon. I get it , he told that part of
himself. She’s mine. I’m paying attention so you don’t have to lock inside
her.
    It was tough to turn around and walk to the bed. He really
did feel shaky and weak. It was another symptom of her being his mate. Nature’s
way of bitch slapping the toughest of his kind came with physical symptoms to
emphasize it, making them realize they weren’t complete without someone to
share their lives with.
    He stretched out on the mattress with Jasmine on top of him.
She didn’t protest, just shifted her legs to the sides of his. Her rapid
breathing slowed as she recovered and he yanked up the nightshirt to stroke his
fingers down her back and ass. She had a nice one and he’d marked it up a
little when he’d gripped her too firmly. His blood inside her would assure
there’d be no bruising but the red imprints of his hold were there when he
lifted his head to peer down.
    Bastard . He should have taken her on the bed, made
love to her instead of nailing her against the wall. She deserved better but
he’d denied himself far too long. He’d tried being noble by resisting his
attraction to her. No more . He’d never forget seeing her in that
basement with torn flesh where she’d been bitten, her wrists raw and bleeding,
and how she’d trembled in his arms when he’d held her. One more day and she
wouldn’t have survived. He hadn’t even known she’d been in trouble.
    I should have kept tabs on her. I should have watched out
for her. I should have— Fuck! He’d left her exposed to danger is what it
boiled down to. She was his mate and he’d been too stubborn to admit the
reality of it. He’d shrugged it off as strong attraction and nothing more.
Seeing her so near death had been an instant wake-up call.
    “How are you?” He nuzzled her cheek.
    “Good.”
    He loved her voice, so feminine and pleasant to his ears.
Her skin was soft and she had the sexiest curves. One hand slid to her hip,
giving it a gentle squeeze. His mate wasn’t bony the way most werewolves and
vampires tended to be. She’d been right about the women who frequented the
club. They were too perfect, thanks to their bloodlines. Or because of