Chapter 20: The Mark

Della's POV

He didn't let me walk up the porch steps.

He came around the truck and lifted me out of the seat, careful of my side.

He carried me up the steps and across the threshold.

"I can walk," I said.

"I know."

"You're just going to carry me anyway."

"Yes."

The lodge was cold, and he lit the big stone fireplace with one hand, still holding me against his chest with the other.

When the kindling caught, he knelt and set me down on the wool rug in front of it.

The light slid over his face.

His eyes were already gold.

"Say it again," he said, very low.

"The mark."

"The whole thing."

"I want your mark, Dalton." I took his collar in both fists. "I'm giving you my word."

"Della..."

"I'm not doing it because of Gilbert, or the council, or because a wolf says so. I'm doing it because I want you to."

"Tell me you heard it."

"I heard it." His voice was rough. "Every word. I'll keep it."

I pulled his mouth down onto mine.

He kissed me the way he'd been wanting to for six years, deeply and without hurry.

His hands came up under my blouse, so gently that my breath caught.

He found the tape over my ribs and went still.

"It's fine," I said. "Don't you dare stop."

"I'll be careful."

"Don't be careful."

He laughed against my neck, a short shaken sound, and began undoing my buttons from the top.

He kissed each patch of skin as he uncovered it.

My collarbone, then the soft place between my breasts, then the underside of each one, slow and wet and patient.

I arched into his mouth.

"Off," I said, pulling at his shirt. "Everything. I want to see you."

He sat back on his heels and stripped it over his head.

The fire lit the old scars on his chest, and the new red marks on his palms.

I put my hands on him and felt his heart slam under my fingers.

"You're shaking," I said.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Claimed After Divorce by My Brother's Best Friend from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.