Quinn was doing his usual pragmatic (read: slightly avoidant) thing of dealing with every practical matter he could think of before he faced his feelings about the evening's events.

First, he sat down on my chair arm and licked the small wounds on my neck, using his shifter saliva to erase Eric's mark on me. Then I insisted on having a shower because when I wasn't turned on, being liberally coated in someone else's spittle wasn't so hot. He readily agreed to helping me, but when I apologized for smelling of Eric, he nonchalantly told me that I smelled far more like Frannie, because she sat on my lap for three hours or so that afternoon in Eric's car. He breezily informed me that I smelled, quote, "really nice but not at all sexy," which added even more to my desire to get clean again. (Neither of us mentioned that we each also smelled like The Creep who Quinn killed and half-ate that afternoon, after finding him on top of his screaming, struggling sister.)

He took the opportunity to show off his skill at dealing with long hair by washing mine, and even though I knew he'd learned to do that while he was raising Frannie, it seemed sexy to me that he knew how to clean, condition and comb out women's hair. But then, I did always love having my scalp touched. By the time he was done shampooing, I felt relaxed all over, but that wasn't entirely a good thing: I still hadn't eaten all day, and the one big glass of juice he brought me earlier was wearing off. When I almost fainted in the shower, I 'heard' Quinn make a mental note to get food into me, pronto. He had me fully washed and out of the shower two minutes later; had a blue cotton nightdress on me less than a minute after that; and then I was lying exhausted in my bed, feeling too tired to move, but weirdly buzzed from taking Eric's blood.

My tummy was grumbling, and I was almost tempted to finish the coffee still sitting half-drunk (and completely cold) by my bed. Apart from those mouthfuls of caffeine that morning, I'd had a few swigs of water and a glass of juice all day: no solid food at all. When he came back in a minute later carrying food, I immediately wanted to kiss him... and for once, it wasn't because he was wearing only boxers and looked delicious himself. He coaxed me into a sitting position, with my back against the headboard and my legs under the covers. Then he set a plate of food on my lap: two sandwiches, a little tub of chocolate pudding and a spoon. It wasn't fancy, but the fact that he made food appear in under five minutes, without me having to move a muscle, made him my favorite person in the world. I was that hungry.

"I wasn't sure what you felt like so I made one cheese and tomato, one peanut butter and jelly," he told me as he sat down next to me.

"Thank you," I whispered, tears forming in my eyes. "You're so wonderful, John. I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry I let Eric bite me... can you ever forgive me?"

He sat down heavily on the side of the bed, thinking about it. "You really believed he was badly hurt?" he asked me softly.

I nodded. "I could've sworn he was... what I felt through the bond... I can't explain it. If he's not hurt, I don't know how he did it."

He gave me a wan smile and shook his head, then declared, "Then there's nothing to forgive."

I stared at him in shock. "But I let someone else -"

"We agreed you could give him blood if he was hurt," he interrupted. "I said you could do it. If we agreed you'd never let him bite you again under any circumstances, we'd be over right now... but that's not what we agreed. What happened tonight... that's really not how it was meant to happen. I meant it like... if he's dying in front of you, I won't hold it against you if you try to save him. I didn't mean, if you're dying," his voice cracked, and he stopped speaking for a long while. "But if I say you can do something, I won't go back on my word, no matter how it works out." He was deadly serious about that; even if I wasn't telepathic, the expression on his face would make that clear.

"But he's not hurt." I was close to tears.

"I know," he stroked my face sweetly. "That fucking blood-sucker... you were dying," his voice broke up again. "Of all the times to trick you into giving him blood. Short-sighted moron." He was furious with Eric, I could feel that, but not with me.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" I demanded. "You should be mad at me. I cheated on you. I let someone else bite me..."

"Sookie, the only thing I said it was OK for you to do with anyone else, is give him blood if he's hurt. When you said V has 'certain effects' on you, I thought you meant... well, I half-expected to walk in on you naked. But I could see the life slipping out of you, and if that was the only way to keep you alive..." His voice went all shaky again, and I could feel that he was struggling not to cry in front of me. "If I had to choose between watching you die, and... that. Well, I chose that." Then he abruptly perked up again. "But you didn't put me through that. You took a drug that makes people do crazy, out-of-control things - usually sick sexual things - and you did the only thing we'd agreed you could to do." He broke into a big grin then, leaning in to kiss me. "I'm actually kinda proud of you for that."

"This-all makes my head spin," I whispered between kisses. "The human rules are so simple..."

"I know. But I'm pretty sure they don't cover what to do when you're blood-bonded to one person, and your fated mate is someone else."

"They really don't," I agreed, starting to see his point. Whoever made the human rules hadn't considered that possibility at all.

"Although I gotta say, the rules humans follow are what make no sense to me - the same for everyone, like every person and every relationship are all the same... how the hell is that gonna work?"

"A lot of the time, it doesn't," I admitted, thinking of all the humans who I knew the standard rules didn't work so well for, but who stuck to them anyway... well, until they couldn't take any more and split up with their partner, anyway. "So what are the rules for shifters?"

"Find out what your partner's OK with, and don't do anything else."

"It's that simple?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice; shifter arrangements always seemed so complicated to me.

He shrugged. "It means everyone's gotta figure out what they're OK and not OK with for themselves, then communicate that clearly to their partner, and find out what their partner's OK with, and make rules that work for both of them... If couples are good at talking to each other about things, it works fine. If they're not, there's problems... there's no standard rules to fall back on, if you don't talk."

I nodded and started gnawing on my sandwiches then, finally feeling relaxed enough to eat something. "So we're really OK?"

He nodded. "I still want you to learn to close the bond, though. I can't handle shit like that happening again."

"I want that too," I agreed. "I've always wanted that... to not have it messing with my feelings any more... to know what's mine and what's his."

He gave a curt nod, then looked as worried as I'd been a few moments ago. "Are we OK, babe?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" I shrugged, trying to dismiss his concerns, still nibbling my cheese and tomato sandwich.

"I got carried away with that guy today... seeing him try to hurt Frannie, I just lost it. The kill was quick and painless, I don't ever draw that out, but after that... I was too upset to stop, so I let the tiger part of me take over for a while, and you shouldn't have seen that. And then I lost my temper with Frannie... and then Eric dug out those photos... and I didn't tell you about that video..." He was heaping guilt upon himself. He held himself to very high standards of behavior, and he felt like he'd failed me about a dozen times today.

"I don't have a problem with you," I insisted, and seeing how relieved he was, I couldn't help but smile.

"You're sure?" he checked, before he'd let himself fully believe it.

I nodded. "If I walked in on someone trying to do that to my brother, I'm pretty sure that lightning thing would happen, and I wouldn't try to stop it. It's just lucky that because he's a guy..." I trailed off, realizing that weighing up the relative likelihood of me ever being in that position wasn't relevant to the conversation at hand. "I'm OK with the tiger stuff, John. I know what you are, and I know you're gonna handle things the way a tiger would, sometimes. As for the photos, things you did before we met don't concern me, even if seeing you with someone else does kinda make my blood boil with crazy jealousy, even though I know -"

"It's in the past," he finished for me, leaning over to kiss my neck. He didn't mind my jealousy at all; in fact, it made him happy. Weird.

"And I know you believed that I knew about the video already, so I'll let it slide this time. Lord knows I'm in no position to judge you for falling for Eric's manipulative crap," I rolled my eyes, faintly disgusted with myself. "But anything else I ought to know, don't just assume that I already do. As for Frannie... sibling fights happen," I smiled grimly. "Just try not to get into too many while she's staying here, OK?"

He smiled back and nodded, finally remembering what he meant to do before and handing me my orange juice. I drained it in one long slurp, then handed it back to him, asking for another. He had my glass refilled and back in my hand a few seconds later, moving at Supe speed. I heard the fridge door close at the exact instant he appeared in the doorway with my juice in one hand and a beer for himself in the other.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked as he climbed back into bed next to me, changing the subject.

"I had a sandwich in the kitchen while I made yours. Sorry, bad habit; teaching Frannie to eat was such an adventure, I got used to grabbing something while I prepared her meals," he apologized. "I got lunch today too. We stopped at a Wendy's on the way out of New Orleans while you were asleep, she has a thing for their taco salad and insists we stop every time we pass one. We woke you to see if you wanted anything, but you turned green when I mentioned food so I figured it was a bad idea to put a greasy burger in front of you."

"Thanks, I'm real glad you didn't. That ketamine stuff made me feel like throwing up. It's good I had an empty stomach when they shot me with the dart."

He chuckled. "That's so like you, finding something to be happy about even when you've just been shot with a tranq dart."

"It's better than being shot with a bullet," I shrugged, then took another big bite of my sandwich. I had already wolfed down the cheese sandwich and some more juice; now I was eating the PB&J almost as fast. He'd already finished most of his beer, I noticed.

"Feeling better?" he asked when I finished my second sandwich, putting the now-empty beer bottle on the nightstand.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you so much. You're the best, John."

"Babe, it's two boring sandwiches and a glass of juice from a carton, you don't have to be so grateful."

"I was hungry, thirsty and exhausted, so you brought me food. Nobody's taken care of me like this before." A couple of stray tears slid down my face silently. "Not since my Gran died. You're by far the best boyfriend I've ever had."

He put his arm around me and held me for a few moments, then kissed my hair and decided to cheer me up.

"You didn't touch your chocolate pudding," my boyfriend pouted at me.

He took the pudding and the spoon from my plate and opened the little tub of chocolate custard. He moved so he was facing me and spooned some of it out to feed to me, but I shook my head and scowled at him.

"Hey, I can feed myself!" I protested.

"I know," he smiled, "I just like putting things in your mouth." He looked so innocent that I knew he was up to no good.

I was suddenly very interested in the chocolate pudding... and the handsome man who wanted to feed it to me. He sure was good at making me forget to be sad, my boyfriend. I giggled as he spooned some into my mouth, then said "Mmmm" as it hit my tongue. I hadn't eaten chocolate pudding for a long time - the ones in the fridge were for Hunter - and I'd forgotten how good it tasted.

"This is actually pretty good," I admitted.

He tried to put another spoon of pudding in my mouth as I spoke, but because I was moving my lips, it ended up all over the bottom one. As I started to lick it off, he gave me a hungry look and leaned in to help me. His tongue cleaned my lips thoroughly, nibbling them as he did. It felt like he was nibbling me somewhere else, much lower down my body. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with all I had, provoking a long, happy moan.

When I pulled back from our kiss, I laughed again. There was a puddle of pudding on his chest, oozing onto his left nipple. It looked as though I had pressed the tub of pudding against his body and spilled some when I had leaned in to kiss him. It appeared completely accidental, but I didn't have to read his mind to suspect it wasn't. Not that I minded; the mere thought of licking yummy chocolate custard off his beautiful muscle-bound body was making me very wet.

"You're so careless," I admonished him, not meaning it for a second.

"Sorry," he replied, not meaning it any more than I did.

I ran a finger right through the puddle of pudding, then put my now-chocolatey finger in my mouth and sucked it far cleaner than I needed to. He stared at me as though I was the chocolate pudding and he hadn't eaten in weeks. I leaned over and started licking up the spilled dessert from his chest, working very slowly and thoroughly, while he made a whole series of appreciative noises, none of which sounded especially human. His tiger instincts had been simmering lust in the back of his mind all afternoon, and I could feel that what we were doing made him want to pounce on me.

As I finished cleaning up the spilled chocolate pudding with my tongue, I finally made my way to his nipple. I was licking, sucking and nibbling all around it, making sure I got every drop... including a few imaginary ones that were especially hard to clean up. His free hand tangled in my hair, pushing me closer to the wall of hard flesh in front of me. Quinn's body would make a body builder jealous, the sheer amount of muscle on his frame almost incomprehensible. But somehow, he carried all that bulk gracefully. My hands wandered over his body of their own accord, while I tormented his nipple with my teeth.

"Oh God," he choked out a few times, clearly appreciating my clean-up efforts.

When I really couldn't pretend to be licking up spilled pudding any more, I let his nipple slip from my mouth and sat up again. My eyes roamed his body and the bulge in his boxers made me especially happy. I thought of how he felt inside me and got wetter by the second. I realized we were just staring at each other, both too distracted to remember what we were doing. Oh, chocolate pudding, I remembered.

I opened my mouth and waited until he got the hint. It took almost a full minute - and some very graphic thoughts about what I might want him to put in my mouth that I 'heard' loud and clear - but he eventually shook off the fog of lust and put some more pudding into my mouth. Eating it from a spoon was a major let-down after licking it off his delicious body. When a second spoonful of pudding made it to my mouth without incident, I was considering telling him exactly that.

Luckily, I leaned in to whisper something provocative at the same moment he went to spoon more dessert into my mouth. I managed to knock his hand and another spoon of pudding landed on his chest. Since this effort was almost a real accident, it didn't land on his nipple, but I quickly fixed that by using my finger to smear it across. He chuckled as I sucked my finger clean suggestively. Then my mouth was on his chest, licking the chocolate custard off him as slowly as I could, nipping the little mouthfuls of flesh I sucked in between my teeth. The sounds he made were driving me crazy, and I lingered far longer than was strictly necessary before finally pulling away.

"You're gonna get pudding on your nightdress," he mumbled, barely coherent. I knew immediately that it was a ploy.

"I'd better take it off then," I murmured, then pulled it over my head and threw it across the room in a single smooth movement.

No sooner was my nightgown off, than he went to feed me another spoonful of pudding. This time he didn't even pretend to have a mishap; he simply turned the spoon over before it got to my mouth, so the custard fell onto my breast. I gasped as the cool dessert hit my skin. An instant later, his tongue was there, busily cleaning up - and teasing my nipple more than a little along the way. I was moaning loudly, and so was he. I couldn't tell which one of us was enjoying this more.

When he was finally done, having licked far more of my breast than a single spoon of dessert could possibly cover, he picked up the little tub for more. It was practically empty. Not easily deterred, he eked out one last spoonful by scraping down the sides carefully. He held up the spoon of pudding and gave me a naughty grin that made my insides twitch in excitement. Whatever he had planned, it was going to be fun.

He made no pretense at all this time; just took the spoon and pressed the bowl of it to my nipple. A choked gasp escaped my throat as the cool pudding covered the tender bud. He used the back of the spoon to spread it all over my breast, covering as much of it as he could with sticky dessert, making me moan as he did. When he was finally done, he licked the spoon clean in front of me, showing me exactly how talented his tongue was. I was as turned on as I had ever been.

A moment later his mouth was on my breast, licking and nibbling all over it, cleaning and teasing in equal measure. Then he was taking as much of my breast as he could into his mouth, sucking with all his might, then letting it slide out until he was just holding my nipple between his teeth very gently, and repeating it all over again. I couldn't tell if I was moaning, screaming, keening or all three, but I sure was making a lot of noise.

My hands found their way to his head and I urged him on, stroking his scalp as I pressed him into my soft flesh. He grunted in a way that would be funny any other time, but at that moment, it seemed like the sexiest thing I had ever heard. I hungered for him, needing him inside me and on top of me and all over me. But first, I wanted him in my mouth.

I pushed him back and took the empty tub from his hand. "More," I managed to choke out.

He gave me a wild-eyed look that said he was going to devour me, then took off at full Supe speed. He was back before I heard the fridge door swing closed. He stood in front of me with another small tub of pudding and I held out my hand for him to stop, so I could look at him. My eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in every sculpted inch of perfect male flesh. He was so beautiful to me, even the faint web of scars all over his gorgeous olive skin was lovely somehow.

"You're drooling, babe," he chuckled, looking very happy about it.

I touched a finger to my mouth and found that he was right. I decided I didn't care, and went right back to staring at him. He was still wearing his boxers and, appealing as the strained fabric was, I wanted to see all of him.

I stared directly at his crotch. "You don't want to get pudding on those, do you?" I asked, not bothering to look up.

He put the little tub in my hand, then turned and peeled off his underwear. I made an animal growl as he revealed his firm backside to me - he knew I was an ass girl and took every opportunity to tease me. He turned and gave me a look equally ferocious and starving, his eyes flickering between purple and amber. The tiger in him was especially hungry tonight.

I beckoned him, and he crawled back onto the bed, his eyes wandering up and down my body as he did, lingering especially long on my breasts. He knelt in front of me, his knees a few inches apart. I stared at his cock and licked my lips; he was so big, so hard and so good... I could scarcely believe my luck. As I put my hands on the outside of his legs and pushed them together, he realized what I was about to do and gave me a pleading look. I grinned back triumphantly.

I leaned over to kiss him, and as I did, I 'accidentally' spilled most of the second tub of chocolate pudding into his lap. The sound he made as the cool custard met his throbbing groin was equal parts relief and desperation.

"Oops," I grinned as I pulled back to survey my handiwork. He couldn't take his eyes off me.

The pudding had all landed in one spot, near his base. That didn't suit my purposes, so I used my fingers to spread it all over his wonderful cock, loving the ravenous sounds he made as I did. When I was satisfied with my efforts, I licked my fingers clean one at a time, while he watched my tongue and lips in rapt fascination. I leaned in and kissed him passionately, letting him feel the soft, nimble flesh that would soon touch him elsewhere.

My mouth left his lips and worked its way down his body, inch by tortuous inch, kissing and nipping every step of the way. He was biting his lip hard, while a string of pleas escaped his mouth. He murmured "please," "yes," "oh God," and "babe" many times - and some more specific pleas as well - desperate for any stimulation I would give him.

When I finally reached his crotch, he was almost ready to burst. I smiled brightly; I loved having this effect on him, teasing him to distraction before I gave him any release. I started with the custard that had oozed off his hard length, onto his inner thighs. I licked it up delightedly, rubbing my nipples against his legs as I did. His hands were tangled in my hair and he was moaning so loudly, I knew every vampires for miles around would hear him clearly. I didn't care.

Then I moved up to the base of him, sucking up the pudding that had landed in his dark curls, pulling the hair hard between my teeth while he whimpered my name, again and again. I knew I had him now; his orgasm was inevitable and I need only decide when and how I would make him come. I licked up and down his length, pretending this was still just a way to clean up spilled dessert. As I nibbled away at the spots where there was too much pudding to just lick up, he got closer and closer, louder and louder, more and more desperate to be in my mouth. I wasn't done cleaning though, so I kept licking, sucking and nibbling until he sounded so ready it was cruel not to take him.

My hands slid down his inner thighs, and as I pushed his knees apart, he took a huge gasp and started begging.

"Oh babe... please... please babe... your mouth... Oh God... please... please, now... please..."

I swirled my tongue around his head a few times, loving the long low groans he made, then lowered myself so my throat was in line with his cock. I opened my mouth wide and relaxed, letting him slide into me. He was making incomprehensible but unmistakably desperate sounds as I took him as deeply as I could. I was surprised when his dark curls touched my lips; I hadn't expected to take him all the way on my first attempt. I closed my lips around him and slid back again, my nipples rubbing against his leg the whole way.

I took a deep breath and slid down his length a second time, working up and down as he screamed. His fingers tangled sweetly in my hair, playing with the soft strands with his eyes glued to my face, transfixed by the sight of me pleasuring him so skillfully. He loved that I did this so well, not minding at all that I had learned it with someone else; just enjoying all the talents and preferences that I brought with me now.

He was seconds away from coming, and I wanted to taste him when he did. I slid back until only his head was in my mouth, then used my tongue to tease him while my hands stroked down to his base, over and over. His hands clenched in my hair and he roared as he came, filling my mouth. I swallowed and slurped and swallowed again, feeling his pleasure almost as intensely as if it were my own. I could feel his enjoyment and satisfaction, but also his affection and joy. He truly loved me; his mind sang with adoration.

A moment later, he collapsed in a boneless heap beside me. I smiled and planted little kisses all over him, as his body shuddered with aftershocks.

"Babe, that was incredible," he whispered. "God, I love you."

"I love you too, my tiger." I snuggled against him and kissed him tenderly.

His warm arms wrapped around me and held me to him. "Mmmm, the way you taste right now... like chocolate and me... so good."

He had a big, silly grin plastered on his face, and I couldn't help smiling back. He was silently telling me how perfect what I'd just done was - not just, quote, the best damn blow job of my life, but also that I'd chosen to do it after I told him what a great boyfriend he was because he'd taken care of me all evening; healing my neck, washing my hair, bringing me food, spoon-feeding me chocolate pudding in bed... He wanted me to know what a turn-on it was, to feel like he was 'earning' my sexual favors; that any day-to-day activity could become hot to him if I hinted I might reward him like that... maybe... if he was good enough... Not in a 'quid pro quo' kinda way, he hastily added, trying to explain that it worked even better if I was sometimes capricious about it - so he couldn't just act on autopilot, doing the same thing he always did to get what he wanted, but instead had to be attentive to me all the time. I could feel that he didn't just mean blow jobs, either; that he was just as turned on by the idea of 'earning' a chance to kiss my cleavage... or other parts of me...

I could feel that admitting that - even silently - made him feel vulnerable though, because he was worried about how I'd react. I dipped into his mind to find out why, and quickly realized it had nothing to do with me; it was simply that he'd been with women in the past who didn't like that. He'd been lectured more than once about how it was 'natural' for men to be in control and take what they wanted... and therefore 'unnatural' that he preferred a woman to jump him, rather than have to pursue someone who feigned disinterest. The tiger part of him could never deal with that: tiger courtship started when a female left her scent marks and wandered around calling for a mate, telling one or more males she wanted them to come spend some time with her, so human female coyness just didn't do it for him. He didn't mind working to woo a woman, but he needed to see some clear, unambiguous signs of interest first; he wouldn't chase someone who didn't want him.

I smiled broadly and decided to show him exactly how OK with that I was - by pushing him onto his back and rolling on top of him.

"My tiger," I murmured in his ear, nipping the scar on his neck as I did. "I just wanna rub my scent all over you."

"Mmmm, yes please," he grinned up at me, thinking how much he loved smelling me on his body.

A shiver ran through both of us as he said it, and an instant later we each knew that our mating ceremony had just begun. I 'heard' him realize that being marked with your new mate's scent at the start was far more significant than shifters knew any more... and it wasn't because being able to arouse his mate gave a man mandate to do the cruel, harmful things the traditional ceremony required him to do to 'break her in' as a new pack member. He was adamant that wasn't the case, no matter what shifter law said, and unsurprisingly I agreed with him. Instead, it was significant because to shifters, having a lover's sexual juices rubbed all over you as a potent symbol of ownership, because smelling someone else's scent told other animals to keep away. For his body to smell strongly of me meant he was mine; that I had a prior claim over him and would fight to keep him for myself. His own need to be mated to me had developed strongly and suddenly, after I asked him to scent-mark me and clearly loved it when he did. I 'heard' him realize it was my own willingness to be marked as his, even temporarily, that triggered that need in him, at the same moment I realized I could only let him claim me because he was so willing to be marked as mine, in any way I wanted. If he didn't want to be mine, there was no way I could become his.

"This is how it starts," he whispered, gazing up at me adoringly. "You asked me to scent-mark you... that's what started it. Once you were marked as mine... I had to be yours. I had to. You're my mate and you were mine and I had to be claimed by you..."

We stared into each other's eyes, watching one another realize what was about to happen... and then watching the excitement that took hold an instant later. My fairy instincts were screaming at me to rub myself all over him, and with a snap of my fingers my panties were gone so I could. He went to warn me that there would be no turning back once I had my scent all over him, but there was already no turning back - if my mate asked for my scent all over him, there was nothing I wanted but his body against mine - and I didn't mind at all.

"You're mine," I growled. "All mine."

He kissed me feverishly, and his excitement over my possessiveness lit a spark inside me. I rubbed my body against his, leaving my juices all over him. He moved me around slowly so he would be soaked in my scent, until the wonderful feel of grinding against him got too much, and I abruptly slid up his body 'til my breasts were on either side of his face. A split-second later, I'd decided which one I wanted sucked first and brought it to his mouth, watching him beneath me as he sucked, licked and gently bit my nipple, purring all the while. I rocked my crotch against his hard stomach, using the ridges of muscle to stimulate myself thoroughly, babbling the word 'mine' over and over as I did. Then I moved my other nipple to his mouth, and we repeated the whole wonderful exercise, until all I wanted was to come all over him. I slowly slid up his body, and unlike the first time we did this when I felt unsure and hesitant, this time I was only taking my time to tease him, loving his look of rapt anticipation.

When I finally got to his mouth, he held me tightly around my waist, using his hand to push my body down over him, so all he could smell was me. His other hand found a nipple to tease and torment, while he expertly sucked and licked, quickly bringing me to the peak I craved. I screamed and bucked against him as my juices flooded his mouth, leaving my scent in one more place, to show he was very definitely mine. But he didn't let me go right away, keeping on flicking me ever-so-gently as I writhed and protested; far too sensitive to take any further stimulation. For those first few seconds I really did want him to stop, but then the pain faded into incredible pleasure, and when he expertly brought me to one more peak a minute later, I felt intensely grateful to him for knowing when to push my body that little bit further. I sighed blissfully and rolled off him, curling my floppy, happy body around his head so he could turn his face to the side and plant sweet little kisses all over the underside of my breasts - one of those places that never seemed to get touched nearly enough.

We lay like that for a long while, as a different feeling slowly came over me. Where it had felt so vital to be possessive and mark my claim on him, I now wanted him to do the same; to mark, mate and claim me - except instead of doing it little by little over a couple of days, the way I had claimed him, I wanted it all right now; had to belong to him in every way I could.

I didn't realize how closely he was watching my face until he quietly ordered, "Tell me what you want."

My lower lip trembled as the reality of the situation hit me. For a moment, I felt sure I couldn't do this; that after all that had happened to me, putting myself in someone else's hands and trusting them to care for me was more than I could manage. But then I looked into his eyes again, and into his mind, and knew that I would come to no harm. He was still watching me as I finally made my mind up.

"Claim me?" I shakily asked him. "Mate me? Mark my neck and make me all yours. Please, John, I need this."

He nodded once, then rolled me onto my back so he could arch up above me and kiss me, his lips traveling from my mouth to my neck and back again as I softly cooed in delight. When he finally pulled back, watching my face to check that I was still OK, I stretched my throat out again, offering it to him to sink his sharp tiger fangs into, so I would forever be marked as his.

As he saw my outstretched neck he got a definite glint in his eye, and I knew that very soon I would be all his.