The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate novel Chapter 608

Chapter 608: Her Mark Said Mine

Serena felt all of it.

Every nerve ending responded to him with a recognition that bypassed her brain and went straight to her marrow. Her body arched into his hands before her mind could authorize the movement. Her fingers found the freckle on his shoulder, traced it, and the tracing carried the intimate certainty of a woman who had mapped this body in another version and remembered where every landmark was.

Every kiss landed like a brand. She made a sound on the hollow of her throat, half sob, half plea. When his teeth found the spot under her ear her whole body jerked and a broken "Ronan" slipped out before she could catch it.

He settled between her thighs with the steady, deliberate weight of a man whose patience was structural.

The first press of him against her was not entry. It was a threat and a promise. He dragged himself along her, once, twice, lining up with a control so tight the muscle in his jaw jumped.

She felt how hard he was holding back.

His forehead rested against hers. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling in the accelerated rhythm of a body that had been waiting and was done and the done was a decision his self-control had voted against and lost.

"Look at me." His voice was barely a whisper. "I wish to see your eyes when I return to you."

She looked at him. His gold met her green. Then he pushed into her slowly. The first inch dragged a broken sound out of his throat. He tried to keep it quiet and failed.

The stretch stole her air and he did not rush.

"Yes. Take it. That’s it—open for me. You were built to do this. Don’t hide from it."

Her inner muscles clenched around him in a helpless pulse she couldn’t stop, and the noise that followed was wrecked.

With a final push, he bottomed out. A sound left him that was not language. Just home. For a moment, he stayed there, buried, as if the fit of her around him was enough to make up for lost time.

He was breathing like a man who was holding together through will alone and whose will was a wall that was developing cracks. Then he rolled his hips and ground deep, no withdrawal, just possession.

"You take me like you were made for this body," he said against her mouth. "Because you were."

The grind dragged a moan out of her that started in her chest and broke on his name. It was possession answering possession. Her wrists twisted in his hold just to feel that he wouldn’t let go.

He pulled out and thrust in again, harder.

The thrust tore a groan out of him that was loud and unrestrained. He drove in and the sound he made against her throat was raw and claiming, like he was the one being taken apart.

"Natalia." It was not tender. It was a man who had just remembered what his body was for.

Each stroke was a full retreat and a full return, deep enough that she felt him in her spine. By the time he was feeding himself into her in those measured claims, every exhale was wrecked.

His hand left her head, found her hip, and used it to pull her onto him as he drove forward, showing her body the rhythm she once knew until she broke.

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