Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 135321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
It sometimes happened that a bond instantly became whole. That was usually because the couple didn’t have any emotional hurdles to jump—their issues were already resolved—but a little something stood in the way of the bond. In his and Havana’s case, the bond had simply been waiting for her devil to stop fighting it.
She slid a hand up his chest. “I came so hard I felt it in my gums,” she more or less slurred.
Brimming with masculine satisfaction, Tate gently sank his hand into her hair. He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, feeling more at peace than he’d ever thought it possible to feel. He stared into those beautiful eyes, so fucking glad and proud she was his. He’d almost missed out on this. He’d almost failed to sense who she was to him because of his stupid fucking hang-ups. Thank Christ he’d gotten past that shit.
Tate understood now why his father didn’t wish he could mate again. There was no replacing someone who was written into your soul the way Havana was written into Tate’s. She lived in every part of him—his mind, his soul, his heart, everywhere.
She brushed her finger over the throbbing bite mark on this throat. He liked that she’d left her claiming brand in such a visible place. “Is your cat okay?” she asked. “He’s not freaking out or anything?”
Tate snorted. “He’s curled up in a ball of pure male smugness. What about your devil?”
“Oh, she’s totally content.”
“As are you—I can feel it.” He inhaled deeply. “I like that our scents have finally mixed.” He wanted their combined scent filling his—no, their—house. He glanced around the room. “How long will it take to pack your stuff?”
Her brow furrowed. “You want me to move into your house today?”
“Uh, yeah. I want it to be our home. I want your things to be mixed with mine. I want it to be clear to one and all that we’re now mated. Besides, you’re not a loner anymore. That means you can no longer live in this complex. I’m sorry—it’s against the rules.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
Because he wasn’t. He rubbed his nose against hers. “Come on, baby, move in with me.”
She sighed. “If I do, you can’t whine if you find Aspen or Bailey hanging out in the living room uninvited. Which you will. Often.”
“They’ll have apartments of their own.”
“Yes, they will. It won’t make a blind bit of difference.”
“I’ll deal with it when and if the time comes. On another note, the pride is going to want to throw a ‘Welcome to the Pride/Congrats on Your Mating’ party.”
“Maybe we could mix it with our mating celebration instead of holding multiple parties.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“Where does the pride hold mating celebrations?”
“The Tavern. We often invite the Phoenix and Mercury Pack.”
Havana bit her lip. “Can we hold off on having the mating ceremony until after the Gideon bullshit is over?” She wasn’t surprised when his expression darkened. “I don’t want our minds to be on anything other than the celebration.” She didn’t want to spend the day worrying Gideon would choose then to strike, or that the asshole would do something that would eat into the celebration.
Tate’s frown was thoughtful. “I don’t like the idea of waiting, but it might be the best option. That day will be special for us, and I don’t want him taking up any of your mental space during the celebration.”
“Then we wait.” Doodling a circle on his chest with her fingertip, she said, “I forgot to ask you before, but … why didn’t you tell me that you, Luke, and Alex had some fatal fun with Yasiel?”
“I planned to at some point. But you have enough going on right now that’s messing with your head. I didn’t want to bring him up again and dredge up painful memories for you unless I absolutely had to.”
Her heart squeezed. “Thank you. Not just for what you did, but for caring enough to do it.” Maybe another woman might have been disturbed that he’d killed for her, but Havana was a big believer in vengeance. Yasiel had taken everything from her. There’d been no justice in him walking the Earth.
Tate’s brow creased. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re mine, Havana. This is what it means to be mine. I will protect and spoil and cosset you to the point of making you crazy. I’m also a man who’d never allow a person who hurt you that badly to live. Never.”
“If you tell anyone I’ll deny it, but you make me all tingly when you dish out these darkly overprotective declarations. And I’m all about the tingles.”
His mouth quirked. “Kiss me.”
She did, and he quickly took over and made the kiss his own. Not roughly, but decisively—every lick of his tongue was bold and sure.